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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29037729">Ill Met By Moonlight</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/relovutionary/pseuds/relovutionary'>relovutionary</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A Court of Thorns and Roses - Freeform, Eventual Smut, F/M, Love, Manipulation, Mates, New Species, Original Female Character - Freeform, Original Male Character(s) - Freeform, Prythian, Romance, Trauma, Under the Mountain - Freeform, Violence, War, a court of mist and fury, a court of wings and ruin - Freeform, a lot of OCs - Freeform, shadowsinger</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:01:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>48,171</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29037729</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/relovutionary/pseuds/relovutionary</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Yours is the light by which my spirit's born."<br/>Kazimyrah has left behind all that she loves to protect her High Lord Under the Mountain, but he has given her strict orders to stay her hand and to obey Amarantha at every turn to protect her home back in the Night Court. Kazi must battle between her oath as a Divine and her loyalty to Rhysand as the years drag on under the curse.<br/>Azriel/OC<br/>Pre-ACoTaR to ACoWaR.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Azriel (ACoTaR)/Original Character(s), Azriel (ACoTaR)/Original Female Character(s), Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Nesta Archeron/Cassian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>87</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. By the Mother's Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Welcome to the first fanfic I’ve written on Ao3. I’ve written for different fandoms on Wattpad and it is my main platform, but I know that the following on this site for A Court of Thorns and Roses is bigger so I thought I would post this here and see what happens. This book is an Azriel/OC story. The first few chapters will mostly take place pre-ACoTaR but will eventually fall into the storyline.<br/>If there’s anything that isn’t canonically correct, please leave a review and I will remedy it somehow, I’m not sure how that works on here.<br/>This first chapter is a short look into the new species I've included here for clarity.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><strong><em>  —BEFORE </em></strong>the Cauldron fell into the wicked hands that would seek to destroy it, the Mother used it to create the fae-land of Prythian and the rest of the mortal world beyond. She poured life into a cold expanse and watched as something empty became something beautiful. She breathed life into a fae species and the mortals who dwelled on her creation, giving them purpose and meaning. And she loved them all dearly, their faults and all.</p>
<p>  But her evil counterpart, the Dark Mother, sought to wreak havoc and destroy her most beloved world by creating monsters and spirits with malevolent instincts. She looked on in horror as the life and love she gave became ruined and rotten. The Mother could not stand by and watch as her treasure was torn apart.</p>
<p>  In response, she created her seven Divines. Her pure and beautiful creatures who would protect the world from harm. They would be hardened warriors, they would be haarbringers of peace and justice, they would be her most beloved guardians.</p>
<p>  And over the years, they grew, they reproduced, they died. But they always passed on the blessing of the Mother. The line of the seven Divines remained and found a place among Prythian, swearing to protect and serve the High Lords. Seven divines for seven courts.</p>
<p>  They would live and die for their High Lord, their court. Until the end of time, just as the Mother intended.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Deceiving the Herd</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>—THE BOATS HAD BEEN THE FIRST CLUE.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>  The income of goods reaching the shores of Prythian did not equate the amount that should be coming off the sizable trade ships at each delivery. And the only fae allowed to board and leave the ships for unloading and loading were the merchants Amarantha had brought over herself. Rhysand had a right to be suspicious of her actions. One single report from the Night Court’s Spymaster confirmed an army—thousands strong—was being smuggled into Prythian under the guise of cargo.</p><p>  The High Lord of the Night Court kept a close eye on her advancements but did not make any move to alert the other courts of her traitorous actions to preserve the image he so artfully presented to them. An evil High Lord would never go out of his way to help another.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>—AMARANTHA’S FASCINATION WITH THE COURT OF NIGHTMARES HAD BEEN THE SECOND CLUE.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>  The female had made her rounds to every court, claiming she wanted to rekindle past tensions and make up for her wrongs. Helion had been the first to offer her sanctuary, taking a chance on the female. After finding nothing amiss with her visit, the other High Lords promptly followed suit, letting in the renewed demon and giving her the unlikely benefit of the heavy doubt. Rhysand let her come, only to his Court of Nightmares of course. It was no surprise that she relished the environment but her obsession with it grew to concerning levels.</p><p>  She enthused over every aspect of the court tucked away in the mountainside, asking for three tours a day until she had each passage mapped to perfection in her head. She fawned over the throne of shrouded darkness, saying it had a “certain charming evil hidden in its foundation.” The disconcerting way she seemed to catalogue the dungeon and her obsession with the torture devices used only to threaten the courtiers set off alarms in their heads.</p><p>  And still, they waited for her to make the first move.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>—THE INVITATION TO A BALL IN THE MIDDLE COURT OF PRYTHIAN HAD BEEN THE THIRD AND FINAL CLUE.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>  Fifty years after her surprising return, Amarantha invited all the High Lords and their embassies to a ball in the Middle, the most sacred land of Prythian. A middle ground for them all. A land where they were all equally limited in their power. Where everyone was at their weakest.</p><p>  Rhysand had wanted to reject the invitation, knowing it would be the last step of whatever plan she had concocted in her wretched mind. But it would be too suspicious to be the only one absent in the event that she moved against them all. And it also provided the perfect opportunity to prevent her plot before it began.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>           </p><p><strong><em>—KAZI</em></strong> and Rhysand stiffened marginally in front of their embassy from the Court of Nightmares, standing with a pride they couldn’t feel. The ballroom just beyond them circulated with music and false revelry. However sickened Kazi may have felt to be associated with the courtiers at her back, she’d much rather they be here than her family back in Velaris. At least <em>they</em> were safe from Amarantha’s evil intentions.</p><p>  There was a frustrated scratch against an obsidian wall in her mind. She ignored it, just like she’d done to the other signs of desperation since leaving the Night Court. Whatever she endured next, she would endure it alone. It pained her to put the block in place but where she and Rhysand were going, she did not want anyone else she loved there with her, in body, mind, or soul. The bone-shattering punch against the other side of the stone fortress offered her a solemn relief.</p><p>  They entered gracefully, leading the pack of cruel fae to their coming demise. The grand hall was filled with tables of abundant food and sweetened wine. The floor was already packed with drunken bodies, minds primed for manipulating.</p><p>  The other High Lords had brought their own Guardians and embassies at Amarantha’s request, many of their subjects dispersed around the room in joyful conversation or graceful dance. Helion stood off to their left with a charming smile while Tamlin’s Spring Court stood on their right. The High Lord of Spring had not given a single glance to Rhysand at his entrance, but the set of claws protruding from his fists was a clear enough sign that he was aware of his presence. Lucien stood at his right side stiffly while Linden fidgeted with a glass of wine on the other.</p><p>  Linden tilted his head to make swift eye contact with Kazi. He had grown out his hair since the war so it now hung low down his back; it wasn’t a bad look for him but she couldn’t ignore the uncanny comparison between him and Tamlin now. She gave a soft nod to let him know she would control Rhysand if he controlled his own High Lord if tensions rose too high. He returned the gesture with a soft smile. She felt a morbid comfort knowing that Delfon, the old Guardian of the Spring Court, perished in the war.</p><p>  Her eyes then switched to her left again where Serana stood relaxed next to Helion, the distance between them shortening every second as they whispered to each other conspiratorially beneath the chatter and boisterous music in the room. As the female laughed and leaned forward to utter something in the High Lord of Day’s ear, she caught Kazi’s eye with a radiant smile. Another relationship she was pleased to say remained untouched by the war’s clutches.</p><p>  Rhysand leaned down to murmur something to her as well and she could already guess that it wouldn’t hold the same joy as Helion and Serana’s private conversation. “Whatever happens, we comply.”</p><p>  She nodded as he repeated the strict order again for her the third time that day and hundredth time that month. The protection of Velaris depended on her and Rhysand’s complete compliance. If Amarantha believed their fealty, she would have no reason to invade their thoughts or torture them for information. They would work under false obedience until an opening provided Rhysand with the opportunity to stop Amarantha.</p><p>  “I understand,” Kazi reported. Her heart thundered as a thought occurred to her. “But if she makes to kill you, I will have no choice but to interfere. I will follow your orders until my last breath unless it threatens yours.”</p><p>  He shifted so his back slightly overlapped hers so the Court of Nightmares behind them and the surrounding occupants in the room would not see the soothing hand he brushed on her arm. “Your undying loyalty is as moving as ever,” he muttered quietly. Kazi could not decipher sarcasm from truth and decided to just take it as both.</p><p>  “If by my life or death I can protect you, I will,” she replied at her typical volume, knowing it was what everyone expected her to say. She was sworn to live and die for him, sworn till her last breath and beyond. He gave a solid nod, but his eyes conveyed a frustration with her exceeding devotion, one he had been trying crack for centuries.</p><p>  He turned to address his courtiers with a glaring indifference. “Enjoy it while you can.”</p><p>  They all bowed before stepping around him. Plenty went to go coerce the female fae onto the floor while some moved to speak in their own groups.</p><p>  “Ah, Rhysand, Kazimyrah,” Nostrus greeted as he walked forward. His gleaming platinum hair hung up in perfect knots, offsetting the darkness of his skin. He wore a deep aqua tunic and brocade coat with black trousers. He looked every bit the languish High Lord of Summer. “Looking gloomy as ever.”</p><p>  In perfect Rhysand fashion, he scowled deeper, yanking a goblet of wine off a lesser fae’s tray. Kazi could almost detect the signs of digust in himself as he held up the pretenses of his ulterior self.</p><p>  She had no such obligations and returned the pleasantries. “High Lord Nostrus. Anahera.”</p><p>  The Summer Court’s Guardian nodded fluidly while Nostrus grinned.</p><p>  “To be honest with you, I was not expecting to see you here,” the High Lord said, smirk sinking to a curious line. “You refused to attend the last ball I threw. I should be offended that you chose to attend this one and not mine.”</p><p>  “I sent Amren,” Rhysand remarked coldly.</p><p>  “Yes, the frightening political advisor. I remember.”</p><p>  Amren had been loathe to go to the ball in the High Lord’s place, but Kazi could still remember the rare smile upon her face at her return. She had enjoyed herself in the Summer court for one reason or another.</p><p>  “I expect to see you personally at the next one or I will consider it a personal offense,” Nostrus warned pleasantly. Rhysand offered no promises before another male made his way to Nostrus’ side. “Ah, Tarquin, I was wondering where you’d gotten off to.”</p><p>  His cousin nodded his greeting to the others in the circle, giving special consideration to an ignorant Kazi. “Just catching up with Beron’s sons.”</p><p>  Kazi resisted the urge to grimace at just the thought of the arrogant Autumn Court princes. They were sure to run themselves into the ground with fermented grapes before Amarantha even had the chance to incite her wrath upon them.</p><p>  “Riveting conversation, I’ll bet.” Anahera had no qualms making her distaste in the brothers known. They were unpleasant to all.</p><p>  Tarquin, though he had been the one to voluntarily submit himself to their presence, smirked at her insult. “Only the usual. Beron did not want to come, he hardly even allowed Amarantha shelter in his court when she asked.”</p><p><em>  So the High Lord of Autumn had some sense after all</em>, Kazi thought.</p><p>  “It takes a strong man to forget a grudge and an even stronger man to forgive one,” Nostrus said wisely. “Amarantha has not given any indication to her past misgivings. I think it is time we work toward forgiving.”</p><p>  Rhysand could not listen any longer and stalked off to a darkened corner of the room, an easy place to survey any trouble that may come. Kazi stood within the group but kept her eye peeled for her High Lord whenever another embassy entered the ballroom. Thesan and Tsavani dressed in pale golds and oranges, Kallias and Alistair with shining blue ensembles. Still no sign of Amarantha … or all the troops she’d smuggled to the border. She was waiting, but waiting for what?</p><p>  “You positively reek of anxiety, my friend.” A harsh hiss speared through her mind and pulled her attention to her empty shoulder where Rhysand had once been standing. Nazir stood, an embellished hood resting against his forehead. “Should I be worried?”</p><p>  <em>Y</em><em>es, very.</em></p><p>  She glanced at the other members of their small party before disbanding to speak with the Guardian of the Autumn Court in privacy. She would not tell him of her and her High Lord’s plans, but she could reveal their suspicions. Beron was already apprehensive of the fae-traitor so the news would not come as a surprise.</p><p>  “Why the Middle? Why the Middle if not to take advantage of all the High Lords she’s gathered?” Kazi whispered. “She’s rounded them up and she need only the means to subdue them.”</p><p>  Nazir, unsurprisingly, did not appear shocked by her questions. “And what means could she have that would successfully inhibit seven powerful Lords and their Guardians? Why even try when she knows they would all work against her?” He was not arguing with her, only bouncing ideas off of her frantic mind.</p><p>  “She’s been in and out of all the courts for five decades now, she must have been gathering information. And doesn’t it seem strange that Hybern has remained silent through all of this? Amarantha has been taking all liberties.” Kazi had already expressed every one of these points with the Inner Circle and had reached nothing of import. Amarantha was tying each string upon her puppets with utmost delicacy and caution until she could yank and tie them together at the very end.</p><p>  “Beron has been trying to search the trade ships, but she’s placed them under constant watch and lock down for ‘the safety of the cargo.’”</p><p>  “It’s an army,” Kazi admitted quietly. “She’s managed to bring an armed force across the sea.”</p><p>  Nazir tilted his head in consideration, unsurprised once again. Beron must have assumed something along those lines when denied access to the boats. “How many?”</p><p>  “Thousands.”</p><p>  “But not enough to combat seven courts and their own armies,” he concluded thoughtfully. “Whatever she has planned will happen tonight, but what?”</p><p>  Kazi nodded, raising her hand to tap her nose before moving back out into the open to find her High Lord before Amarantha decided to finally make her appearance. On her way, she grabbed a chalice off of the nearby table to sip. Not enough to drown any thoughts but just enough to dull the ache forming in her head from pounding fists. She was tempted to let down the wall just for a moment to yell her obscenities. But once it was down, she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to put it back up again.</p><p>  She made it clear to the midway point between her and Rhysand before the room overturned into a hushed silence. The clicking of heels brought about the only sound in the crowded space. Everyone’s eyes turned to the grand doors that had let them all in.</p><p>  Amarantha looked no different than she did on the battlefield centuries ago. Contriving. Cold. Manipulative. Ice wrapped in marble skin. Her red hair reflected the candlelit chandeliers above them and her plum-colored dress cinched in every scandalous place imaginable. She looked like charming death in pretty packaging.</p><p>  “Thank you for waiting,” she began with twisted delight. Her eyes caught on Tamlin’s to her right for a moment too long, a moment too suspicious. “I was worried you would all refuse to meet with me despite our treaty and these past few years of peace.” This may have looked like the old Amarantha, but her demure voice was new and superficial.</p><p>  “Have you gathered us all here just for naïve merrymaking?” Beron stepped forward first, all sense of tact blown out of the mountain. “You may have them fooled but I know treachery when I see it.”</p><p>  “You know treachery when you see it?” Amarantha echoed, ruby lips curling into a sneer. “And I suppose you think you also know poison when you drink it?”</p><p>  The room seemed to fall into a deeper and darker pit of silence. The copper goblet in Kazi’s hand suddenly felt too heavy with wine, too thick with poison. Her hand clenched around its stem, denting the thin material. Her eyes found Rhysand’s across the room and saw his own assault against the cup in his hands.</p><p>  They’d been expecting her to involve the army at this time, but it seemed like she’d chosen a more silent killer.</p><p>  “It won’t kill you, don’t worry,” she professed sedately. “Even potent, mountain ash can only kill a fae-child.”</p><p>  The guardians all moved at once to their respective High Lords. Kazi found her way to Rhysand and could already feel the suppressed effects of his powers. She drew her cinquedeas and prepared for the attack that they predicted. But nothing came.</p><p>  Amarantha only stood at the entrance, gaze finding every fae and every Divine with awe.</p><p>  The courtiers were first to drop into a deep sleep. The ones drunk on wine fell first and incited screams from concerned females. Alistair was the first guardian to take action, pulling his long sword up and over his shoulder before charging Amarantha. She only had a second to smile before an atrocious dark faerie dropped down in front of her and slashed out at the guardian of the Winter Court with no reserve.</p><p>  He jerked back as a talon slashed his cheek and ear, but he recovered to swing back at the gruesome fae, moving to slice off his wings first. But it seemed Alistair had also consumed a small amount of wine as he slowly lost momentum and driving force. Kazi fought against running to him.</p><p>  <em>Whatever happens, we comply.</em></p><p>  The dark faerie took advantage of Alistair’s weakness and plunged a talon deep into the guardian’s stomach, enough to render him immobile but not enough to kill him. Kallias shouted in anguish for his fallen guardian and attempted his own charge at the Deceiver only to slowly stumble and fall. He grunted with exertion as he tried to get back up. Amarantha only grinned as her heel pressed his back into the ground until his silver irises rolled back into his head.</p><p>  The remaining guardians looked on in increasing fury, but they stayed their hand to tend to their own High Lords until they too fell unconscious. Amarantha was not going to kill them, not yet.</p><p>  The next High Lord to drop was Helion, having consumed the most wine of them all. The bright sheen surrounding his skin dimmed to nothing as Serana laid him gently to the ground.</p><p>  “You will pay for this treachery,” Beron cursed, throat already betraying his exhaustion.</p><p>   “No, I think <em>you</em> will pay for this.”</p><p>  And the rest of the High Lords dropped to their knees with the help of their guardians. Rhysand leaned his head against Kazi’s shoulder as he kneeled with dignity. She set him slowly to the ground, arranging him in a way that would keep him relatively hidden. But she knew it was no use. Amarantha would find them in the darkest corner, in the deepest cave. She would find them alive, or she would find them dead.</p><p>  “Poison, should have known.” His voice trembled and she nodded slowly. She could feel her own limbs giving out even after only a few sips of the poisoned drink.</p><p>  “We’ll get out of this.”</p><p>  “Such faith,” Rhysand whispered, voice falling away from him. “The Mother would be proud.”</p><p>  Kazi only had half the conscious mind to see his head drop to the marble and to hear Amarantha’s booming voice in an ancient language she didn’t understand.</p><p>  A dark spell.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This was the first "official" chapter but it's more of a preface than anything. The following chapter will be longer, I promise.<br/>Again, let me know if there are canon inconsistencies.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Striking the Heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <em>  —THERE WAS NO WARMTH UNDER THE MOUNTAIN.</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>  Even the burning hearths in every room offered little respite from the bitter breeze that circulated the marble corridors. The stone trapping them in on all sides stole whatever heat their pumping blood could conjure in the shivering nights. It was a cold that pierced the heart and chipped away at the soul in heavy silence.</p>
<p>  It was just the way Amarantha liked it.</p>
<p>  And just the way Kazimyrah hated.</p>
<p>  The ratty, fleece blankets they’d all been provided with did nothing to curb the bone chilling temperature that invaded her bed. She had already stoked the fire twice that night but contemplated the idea of getting up to try again just to see if it would yield different results a third time around. The sleep she begged for would not come either way, so she chose to forgo any action and just drill herself into a deep, meditative state to numb her frigid pain away.</p>
<p>  The reaction was not immediate as she had always struggled with ignoring her worries, but she thought of home. Of the midnight sky. She thought of her warm bed and the strong arms that resided there. She thought of starlight, the moon, and all that she’d left behind to protect her High Lord. She thought of everything she threw away ten years ago. Her muscles relaxed first and her heart rate slowed to a painless thudding rhythm, matching the steady and strong thrum of a heartbeat across Prythian. Her only comfort most days and a painful reminder of all she’d lost on the others.</p>
<p>  She only got a moment of peaceful reprieve before her chamber door swung open on creaky hinges. Her hand clenched around the dagger under her pillow; there were few who entered unannounced and one of them never came with good intentions.</p>
<p>  "You sleep rather soundly for a murderer." Kazi's eyes flashed open, releasing the dagger’s hilt beneath her head. She tracked the lithe movement of Serana in the dark, taking note of how just her presence brought a comforting, sunny warmth to the room. "That's good. You'll need a clear conscience for what I'm about to tell you."</p>
<p>  Kazi disregarded the dig and focused on the female with rapt attention. There was news, and any kind of news Under the Mountain meant nothing good. “What is it?”</p>
<p>  “You’re needed in the throne room,” Serana announced gravely. “There’s been … an incident.”</p>
<p>  “You’re being ominous again, stop.” Kazi climbed out of bed to retrieve her old leathers, fingers tracing the empty siphon slots with longing. “What is it?”</p>
<p>  She prepared herself for the worst because that was only ever what Amarantha wanted. The Deceiver had every Divine under her sharpened, lacquered nails. With every High Lord under the curse, she was free to do what she pleased with any of them, but she especially loved to torture the Guardian of the Night Court and her High Lord for their misdeeds against Tamlin’s father and their overall willingness to submit. She learned early on that the Night Court would cater to her every whim and took a certain kind of delight in forcing their hand.</p>
<p>  “Kazi …” Serana was not a soft-spoken female, none of the Divines were. They were warriors built of steel and iron. Yet here Serana was, voice barely detectable in the still room. “Nostrus attempted to rebel against Amarantha early this morning.”</p>
<p>  A rebellion. The world went hazy for a moment as she thought of the implications. In the past, many had tried to stage a coup against the Deceiver, but it had always been led by a minor lord or just a lowly courtier. Never a High Lord. Amarantha was, no doubt, already planning a most gruesome punishment—if not an execution—for the High Lord of Summer. It would be a display of power, a show of what she was capable of. He would be made into an example in front of everyone.</p>
<p>  Kazi wasn't sure why this all surprised her. It was only a matter of time before one of the seven attempted to topple the mountain. Ten years of torment with no powers and no word from Tamlin or the progress in his own curse. Some of them were bound to seek vengeance eventually. She just hadn't expected Nostrus to take the leap into the deadly storm.</p>
<p>  “Why am I just now being told about this? Where is everyone else?” She doubled her haste in putting on her armor. Her night clothes ended up being tossed to the ground where she would later lament their filth.</p>
<p>  “It happened just this morning. We were all going to let you sleep after what happened last night, but Amarantha …” She did not have to complete the thought. Amarantha liked to get her hands dirty when it was a convenience to her. But she found a sick delight in making Kazi do her bidding when it fit her fanciful notion of torture. Especially when it might hurt her fellow Divines. Dealing with Nostrus would hurt Anahera in irreparable ways.</p>
<p>  She nodded in understanding, grabbing her sharpest cinquedeas and sheathing them to her legs. There was a time where she had ‘conveniently’ left them behind to try and delay the inevitable massacre she’d been ordered to conduct but it did not matter to Amarantha. There were always alternatives. Kazi could still feel faes’ throats collapsing in her hands.</p>
<p>  Before she could exit the room, Serana latched onto her arm and stopped her. “Would you kill him? If she commanded you to, knowing what it meant for Anahera, would you do it?”</p>
<p>  This had not been what Kazi expected to fall from her lips and it made her stammer with dread.</p>
<p>  She was ashamed, so ashamed.</p>
<p>  Because she would. She would have to. She would follow Amarantha’s every order, just as her High Lord required of her. She would kill for her, mutilate for her, warm her bed. All because the witch had Rhysand in the palm of her hand. She would not disobey, not for her friend, her sister, her fellow guardian. Not even for Anahera.</p>
<p>  Serana’s hand released her like she’d been burned by the truth. “Ana will <em>die</em> for him. If Amarantha threatens to kill him—and she will—Ana will have to fight you unto death. One of you will die this day, so many will die this day, Kazimyrah.”</p>
<p>  The female ducked her head in remorse. “You would do it for Helion.”</p>
<p>  Serana stepped back, affronted. “Helion would <em>never</em> be her whore in the first place! He would never betray his court—his people—like that. Never. He would rather die before doing her bidding.”</p>
<p>  The pure anguish in her voice was a serrated knife to Kazi’s stomach. No one understood the sacrifices she and Rhysand made. No one understood the reputation they needed to uphold. No one <em>could</em> understand their reasons. She was forbidden to speak of it.</p>
<p>  “I am bound to him in everything,” she announced, straightening her shoulders in resolve. “I will do anything to keep him safe. I am bound by oath, just as you are, to follow him until the end no matter what. I can regret killing Nostrus and everyone else who’s met the end of my blade since the curse, but I will not regret upholding my oath.”</p>
<p>  “I will not choose between you,” Serana declared. “I will not choose between my sisters.”</p>
<p>  “I’m not asking you to.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong><em>  —KAZI </em></strong>almost relieved her stomach of all its contents as she entered the throne room. It hadn’t just been Nostrus and a few fae that were loyal to his cause that planned the revolution. It was a substantial portion of his embassy, a few other minor lords from fellow courts, and at least forty Children of the Blessed from the mortal lands. The mortals kneeled separate from the rest, crying over their imminent doom as Amarantha stared them down with ruthless hostility. She would have no mercy on their lives. The scene was horrific, and blood hadn’t even been spilled yet.</p>
<p>  The guardian noticed the pile of their iron weapons had been constructed in the middle of the room. There were a couple swords and daggers, but most of the collection was just kitchen knives, pitchforks, and fire pokers. All useless against the fae. There was never a chance for them to succeed.</p>
<p>  “What did he promise you?” Amarantha spat at the human nearest her feet. She swooped down and yanked his head up by the roots of his graying hair. “Did he promise you a place among the fae? Did he promise to care for you in Prythian?”</p>
<p>  The mortal human did not answer her, his lips trembling as she pulled him further toward her snarling face.</p>
<p>  “Answer me!”</p>
<p>  “Yes, yes! He vowed to take us in if we helped him escape,” he spluttered, his throat wobbling with fright. He was one of the older males, and yet still had so much life left in him—so much life that will never be lived.</p>
<p>  Amarantha’s grip did not relent. “Such gullible creatures. So <em>weak</em> and <em>fragile</em>.” At every word, his head was pulled further back so that his neck craned back into painful angles. The bones in his vertebrae popped with every jerk. “He’s promised you certain death. I will delight in ending you myself.”</p>
<p>  There was no other warning, no other prelude to the heinous slash of her jagged blade across his jugular. His body fell before the screams of his fellow mortals even began at his back. Kazi could only relish in the fact that he went swiftly.</p>
<p>  The Deceiver then turned to face the rest of the room, a corrupt and satisfied smile adorning her face. Her expression seemed to lighten as she gazed upon Kazi and Serana at the door. “Ah, glad you could join us. Please,” she urged with a hand, “take your pickings. Plenty to choose from today, Kazimyrah.”</p>
<p>  The room was silenced as the guardian walked forward, head held impossibly high to avoid the stares and the judgement. Amarantha had gathered all the High Lords, their guardians, and their most trusted subjects to watch the slaughter, just as Kazi predicted. Rhysand stood in a darkened corner of the room, knuckles lifted to his frowning mouth as he watched her sidestep a fallen Child of the Blessed that had most likely fainted from fright. He gave no impression of what he was thinking but she could see his shining apology.</p>
<p>
  <em>  He was forgiven. Every time, he would be forgiven.</em>
</p>
<p>  Her heart hammered as she looked over the small army of mortals. She knew she would not be <em>choosing</em> anything. She might have the choice of who died first at her hand but that was as far as her privilege spanned. Most—if not all—of the traitors in the room would feel the touch of her blades. The only thing she really chose was to give them a merciful end.</p>
<p>  Her hand connected with a frail older woman’s shoulder—one of the oldest in the bunch. The human sucked in a rattling breath, but she kept her eyes forward with dignity. She would make it quick, she would not flinch, and she would not back down.</p>
<p>  “Always the predator,” Amarantha glided over, bloodied hand coming up to twirl a lock of Kazi’s hair. She tugged with enough force to threaten her out of doing anything foolish. “Singling out the weakest prey like a perfect hunter.” She wound her hair into a fist until her ear was skimming the Deceiver’s lips. “If only she didn’t hesitate.”</p>
<p>  And the cinquedea plunged into the woman’s chest cavity, perfectly centered in her heart. Amarantha’s hand released her head and shoved her to the next mortal. “Again.”</p>
<p>  There was no stopping it.</p>
<p>  Kazi went as fast as possible, more for the humans’ benefit than her own. They would only live with a short memory of her brutality; they would not have to watch as she cut down their friends for long. She could offer them that while pretending she was lusting for their death. Each time her blades hit a new target, she felt another jab in her soul. Each kill was a scar on her mind and spirit.</p>
<p>  Finally, she reached the end of the pack. The silence of the room was deafening, and she dared not turn to look at her fellow fae. They always looked at her the same way.</p>
<p>  Horror.</p>
<p>  Disgust.</p>
<p>  Disappointment.</p>
<p>  Terror.</p>
<p>  She had been something to fear even before they were swallowed by the mountain. But now she was terrifying death in traitorous skin.</p>
<p>  Blessedly, Amarantha allowed her a minute of recuperation. She faced the back wall and tried to ignore the constant drip of blood down her fingers. Her hands shook as she wiped her blades across her pants to clean them off, but her leathers were so soaked that they came away worse than before. Tears were summoned to her eyes as she took a deep breath. The wet, iron smell sickened her to the point of nausea.</p>
<p>  Her shivering no longer stemmed from the chill.</p>
<p>  By the time she turned around to face the crowded room, Amarantha already had Rhysand sifting around Nostrus’ mind. He cried out in agony as he tried to grab his head.</p>
<p>  Anahera was restrained by three dark faeries, her face twisted up in rage and unbridled violence. Her screams filtered out into the room at ground shaking volumes. She tried to get her hands around their necks to no avail. There was already one dark fae at her feet, his throat ripped out. She would not stop until her High Lord was safe.</p>
<p>  Rhysand pulled out of the High Lord of Summer’s mind and stepped nearer to Amarantha to relay all that he’d seen. “A rebellion against your crown. They were going to use the mortals as a distraction and escape through the tunnels only to recuperate in the courts and wage war on the mountain.”</p>
<p>  The plan wasn’t fool proof in any way; it didn’t even sound well thought out or possible. They had allowed desperation to clog their senses and conjured up a dimwitted idea of an escape. Kazi could not believe she had just slaughtered a village of humans for a brainless and half-assed plan. The anger was overwhelming and the blood on her skin felt like boiling water.</p>
<p>  Killing Nostrus would bring her no joy but there was a part of her that would not hate it. Amarantha—though she hated to say it—was right in one thing: the High Lord had brought the mortals to their death.</p>
<p>  Nostrus had not looked up since having his mind invaded. Brutius, his cousin, kneeled by his side with a beaten face of his own despite his thoughts remaining fully untouched. Anahera continued to thrash and writhe in her captors’ grips, managing to knock one back with a slam of her head. But another dark faerie was already prepared to take his place. She was the only sound in the room; the other High Lords and their embassies could only watch on in dread. They all knew what was coming. No one undermined the Queen of Prythian.</p>
<p>  “Do you know what happens to traitors?” Amarantha asked in a voice softer than velvet. It was an act—but everything was an act with her.</p>
<p>  Nostrus looked up, panting. His dark skin had taken on a sickly pallor and his white hair was falling in shambles across his face. “They lie and scheme for years, exploiting kindness until they strike. I don’t know why you need to ask me when you are the perfect example.”</p>
<p>  He reeled back and spat at her feet, nearly missing her polished heels.</p>
<p>  She was glowering. “How unseemly,” she muttered in distaste. “I gave you <em>everything</em>. I gave you a place in my court, I gave you safety, I gave you a chance to live peacefully under my rule. Every day, I give! And <em>still</em> you would see me off the throne I rightfully sit on. But because I am a merciful queen…” No one protested, though they all agreed she lied through her teeth. “I will give you one last thing.”</p>
<p>  Nostrus shook his head adamantly. “I want nothing from you!”</p>
<p>  Amarantha looked over her shoulder to look at Kazi, gleaming eyes full of vice and anticipation. The guardian straightened her back and tried to wipe her cinquedeas one last time unsuccessfully. She walked over to the High Lord, cautiously avoiding Anahera’s growing snarls and shrieks of animosity.</p>
<p>
  <em>  One of you will die this day. So many will die this day.</em>
</p>
<p>  Kazi’s hand landed on Nostrus’ shoulder, just the same way she’d grabbed the elder mortal. Her heart constricted as Anahera cursed her name.</p>
<p>  “I will never forgive you! Kazimyrah, do you hear me?! I will kill you!” The fae holding her down grunted as she struggled. “Kazimyrah! The Mother looks down on your crimes!”</p>
<p>  The Guardian of Night gripped her cinquedeas tighter. The Mother would understand, the Mother would have to. And if she did not…Kazi would deserve every hell unleashed upon her.</p>
<p>  “I will give you the chance to beg for your life,” Amarantha said as her final offer, her evil grin inviting him to do just that.</p>
<p>  Kazi placed the blade to his back, placing enough pressure so he could feel it through his coat and tunic. Just enough so that he understood what it would mean if he did not beg. She wanted him to grovel, she wanted him to give in and plead for his life like a babe. She did not want to kill him.</p>
<p>  But he did not beg, he did not plead, and he did not grovel.</p>
<p>  “I would rather die.”</p>
<p>  “No!” Anahera roared.</p>
<p>  And Kazi plunged the blade through his ribs and heart, the tip of her cinquedea poking through his chest. His shoulder went limp beneath her hand and she gripped the fabric of his coat in remorse. She pulled the long knife from his back and watched as his body crumpled down and down until he was laying in his own blood.</p>
<p>  Brutius was next and he stared her down, pressing his own chest into her blade so that he killed himself in the end. She would remember the life leaving his eyes. Like a window shattering, like a tunnel caving in.</p>
<p>  She only had a moment to recover from the two before she was being tackled into the pool of ruby liquid at her feet. Kazi felt a splash of blood on her cheek before a fist connected to it. The force slammed the back of her head into the marble below and she saw her beloved stars in the haze. She almost wanted to be hit again so that she could drown in the darkness and see the stars forever more.</p>
<p>  But she had to fight until the end.</p>
<p>  Her legs came up and tossed Anahera over her head with a solid kick. Kazi scrambled in the blood for her cinquedea, allowing the guardian of the Summer Court to gain her footing and continue the assault. Kazi went down again and lost her breath as a broad shoulder pushed down on her lungs.</p>
<p>  “Ana…” she rasped. Anahera’s hand had found its way to her throat so her oxygen was being cut off in two places. She brought her hand up and around until it pressed into Anahera’s back, the same place it pierced Nostrus. She pressed down until a the tip embedded itself into her skin. The pressure on her neck faintly released and she dragged in a breath with difficulty. “Think of Tarquin. He will need you. There will be no other guardian to take your place down here.”</p>
<p>  Kazi could barely think with the swimming shadows in her eyes. She almost sobbed with remembrance. The shadows were welcoming, so welcoming. But she had a job to do.</p>
<p>  “Tarquin needs you to protect him here. I don’t want to kill you.” Kazi uttered. Her blade dug deeper as the other guardian had yet to back down. “But I will. I will do it.</p>
<p>  “I don’t want to kill you,” she repeated, staring into the broken eyes of her fellow Divine.</p>
<p>  “You already have,” Anahera hissed, snatching her hand back and lifting from her kneeled position on Kazi’s chest.</p>
<p>  Kazi laid there in the cooling blood, collecting the pieces of her shattered heart among the mess. She did not want to see the horrified faces of the other High Lords or the saddened ones of the guardians, or the gratified expression on Amarantha’s.</p>
<p>  She could hear her ordering the dark fae to kill the remaining lordlings who had been in on the plot. Kazi had no room in her broken heart to feel relieved that she was excused from the job. She didn’t even have the capacity to feel disgust as the dark faeries used gruesome measures to end their lives. She could only feel an emptiness.</p>
<p>  Soon, the room was cleared of all living courtiers and other dark fae were ushered in to clean the bloodbath. They cleaned around her and left her to her sorrow. Amarantha did not stick around and Kazi could not feel grateful for it. Blissful moments of nothingness went by before a hand rested on her shoulder. She opened her eyes to see Rhysand kneeling next to her, black trousers now just as soaked as her whole body. His face held nothing as the fae circulated around them but his hand held everything. She reached up with her other bloody hand and clenched the cuff of his wrist.</p>
<p>  “It hurts,” she whispered.</p>
<p>  His fingers secretly trailed to her neck to check the bruising where Anahera had dug in, but Kazi stopped him and shook her head.</p>
<p>  “Not that.”</p>
<p>  Rhysand’s violet eyes trained on her own with an understanding that she wanted to bask in forever. She rested her head back down to the ground, ignoring the stench of iron that invaded her nose. She might as well get used to it for it seemed she would never be rid of it.</p>
<p>  Her High Lord sat with her for a while longer, allowing her the time she needed to pick herself up from her own despair. She imagined he would spend the whole day with her there in the sick if she needed it. He would not push her.</p>
<p>  “Are the bodies gone?” she asked, not trusting herself to look around and check for herself.</p>
<p>  Rhysand’s head lifted to survey the room, carefully taking in the carnage. “They’re gone. There’s still—”</p>
<p>  “I’m covered in it, the blood won’t bother me,” she declared. But it did, and it would.</p>
<p>  He didn’t help her up, but she knew she would have rejected the offer if it was given. She had to do this herself. No one else would pick up her pieces.</p>
<p>  Her hands circled the hilts of her cinquedeas and didn’t even try to clean them before stuffing them in their thigh harnesses. Something told her they would always be stained with the remnants of this day.</p>
<p>  “I need to bathe,” she mentioned quietly as she finally found her footing. She dared not to look down at herself, she could already feel the viscera covering her body.</p>
<p>  Rhysand leaned down to speak with her in and equally quiet voice. “I have a private bathhouse. Come.”</p>
<p>  She followed him out of the throne room and made little effort to stop the trail of blood she made. Her boots squeaked along the halls and that alone almost sent her down another spiral. Her skin itched with drying blood and she felt suffocated by the fumes.</p>
<p>  The High Lords lived a tad more comfortably than their guardians, but the chill still managed to seep into the room. Kazi shuddered and shook as she watched Rhysand draw a bath for her. He worked as quickly as possible and she could see the way his hands clenched whenever they weren’t actively turning a knob or grabbing a towel.</p>
<p>  He finally turned to her after everything was arranged. “I’ll have Nuala and Cerridwen come in with fresh clothes. You’re free to stay here for the night.”</p>
<p>  Kazi did not want to think about where he would be if not in his own room. <em>They each made their own sacrifices.</em></p>
<p>  She also took note of how he said ‘stay’ and not ‘sleep.’ There would be no sleep in her near future, not with her mind and soul in ruins. Even the exhaustion in her bones would not beat out the utter anguish of her heart.</p>
<p>  And with one last sorrowful look, he was gone. She could not decide whether she was appreciative of the absence or if she was scared to be left alone in such a state.</p>
<p>  Removing the leathers without looking at them proved a challenge. She could feel with stickiness of each article as it pulled away from her like a second skin, one that would always be drenched in death and decay. She set her harnesses against a vanity, cinquedeas still tucked safely inside. She stared at them in their dormant state, thinking about how useless they were without the wielder. She was the real weapon.</p>
<p>  No matter how well she was able to avoid looking at herself before climbing into the bath, she could not avoid the swirls of red that drifted around the water. They twisted around and around until she was surrounded in the leavings of her victims. It all swarmed together, leaving no where on her body untouched.</p>
<p>  She squeezed her eyes shut tight and dunked below the surface, tearing her fingers through her hair to rid herself of every physical reminder of that morning. Her scalp burned as she scraped her fingernails against it and twisted her fingers through her hair. The pain was a growing comfort.</p>
<p>  She stayed underneath until more pain began to bloom in her chest, reminding her of Anahera’s assault after the death of her High Lord. <em>The Mother looks down on your crimes!</em></p>
<p>  A pounding began in her head and she pushed back against it. It was a nice sort of ache and she allowed it to occupy her mind.</p>
<p>
  <em>  Kazi!</em>
</p>
<p>  The darkness of her mind screamed at her. She could give in; she could give in until her lovely shadows came and swept her away into their abyss. The pounding became more incessant.</p>
<p>
  <em>  Kazi!</em>
</p>
<p>  She missed them. She missed their cool touch on her hips and her face, her lips. She missed the sound of their sweet whisperings against her ears and their promises to protect her just like she protected them.</p>
<p>  “Kazi!”</p>
<p>  She broke the surface with a gulp of iron potent water. She coughed and spluttered as Nuala and Cerridwen withdrew their smoky hands. Their eyes were panicked as she took in mouthfuls of air. She blinked away her pain at the sight of them. They always tried to harness their shadows around her to hide the painful reminder of what she left behind, but their gray skin still rippled like dark fog.</p>
<p>  They did not say anything else. Nuala began to gently scrub away the patches of red that Kazi had missed while Cerridwen took a bucket and began replacing the bloody water with fresh. They were always so good to her.</p>
<p>  Only after Nuala started to massage her shoulders did Kazi decide to get out. She stood up and accepted the fluffy towel they wrapped around her shoulders. They then arranged clean sleeping clothes for her to put on. She did so with a drag in her movements. They did not rush her.</p>
<p>  Once she had the loose dress and leggings on, she sat down at Rhysand’s vanity. Cerridwen immediately got to work with putting her hair in a protective braid while Nuala cleaned the bathhouse. They worked efficiently and with caring smiles even though Kazi could not return them.</p>
<p>  “Is there anything else we can do for you, Kazi?” Nuala asked, her hand settling on her shoulder.</p>
<p>  Kazi glanced at her in the mirror and faintly shook her head. “Thank you.”</p>
<p>  “Of course,” they muttered softly before leaving the room. They even shut the door softly behind them.</p>
<p>  The Guardian of the Night Court sat there for hours, staring into the reflection of her face.</p>
<p>
  <em>  I don’t want to kill you.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  You already have.</em>
</p>
<p><em>  One of you will die this day,</em> Serana had said. But she was wrong. She was wrong in the very worst way.</p>
<p>  Because both of them died that day.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I’ve really been writing this every chance I get. My classes have yet to really pick up so I am trying to crank out as much as possible.<br/>Let me know if there are any inconsistencies! I know this part is only mentioned in the books, but if there was an important fact about this event, please tell me!<br/>I’ve never written something like this. Most of my other fanfictions are based on Percy Jackson, Doctor Who, and Narnia so I’m really struggling with the dark themes here. If you have tips or criticism, I’ll take them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. A False Front</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>  —<strong><em>THERE </em></strong>was darkness, and then there was an absence of light.</p>
<p>  The darkness was healing. It was untold mystery folded in a blanket of security. There was a beauty in the pure midnight darkness that allowed the stars to shine their brightest. Without the night sky, there would be no love for the sun. The darkness held the shadows engraved in her soul, tempting her into the abyss with their gentle kiss.</p>
<p>  But Kazi could not and would not give in, not yet. There was work to be done, she would not retire early to her love in the darkness, no matter how enticing. She looked at the tendrils of ebony approaching their forms and turned to Rhysand.</p>
<p>  “Are you well enough to winnow?” she asked quietly so as not to disturb the stillness of infinity above her. Her skin bathed in the fresh air beneath the moon. She could relish this reunion with the moon for a moment, only a moment. A near 49 years in the absence of light had made her heart grow fonder of the night.</p>
<p>  There was a pause without answer, and she looked over to see her High Lord in a similar act of cleansing. His chin lifted to the stars and his eyes drifted shut with a tenderness he had not shown in decades. Calanmai was upon them once more and he could feel its settling effects on his spirit. She glanced warily at the sneaking shadows before stepping away for a moment to allow him the privacy of such an intimate moment.</p>
<p>  Kazi leaned against a nearby tree and let her hand caress the bark of its trunk, swearing she hadn’t felt such untainted life in all her years. It was invigorating, realizing there were still parts of the world that Amarantha could not tarnish with her influence. There were parts she would never be able to reach, and it gave her hope.</p>
<p>  “Let’s go,” Rhysand said, his face turned to stone now that he’d gotten his fix of the night.</p>
<p>  Kazi nodded, staring down the shadows one last time and waited for him to disappear in a burst of black smoke before doing so herself. When Amarantha gave back a portion of their powers to complete tasks for her, it was like drinking water after years in an endless desert. The rush of power after so long of deprivation, especially on the eve of Spring, felt like rebirth.</p>
<p>  They appeared just outside the border of the Spring Court, large maple trees giving them the perfect cover in the darkness. Kazi could feel the flow of power from the rising festivities in the distance. Distant voices of jubilation reached her keen ears and she wondered how anyone could feel so carefree in their plight-cursed land.</p>
<p>  Looking up at the moon, Kazi determined the time to be a couple hours before midnight. Tamlin would be hunting for the White Stag within the hour and it would be her job to lead him astray while Rhysand investigated the Spring Estates for any activity pertaining to his curse. According to Amarantha’s dark spies, there was reason to believe a human female was wandering the grounds.</p>
<p>  As she looked over to her High Lord, she noticed he had the strange wistful expression planted on his face again, except this time it was directed deep in the wood. Like he felt something tugging at him from beyond their line of sight. She tried to feel for any strange power source that could possibly affect him in such a way but could only feel emptiness where he was looking.</p>
<p>  “Rhys,” she ventured. She didn’t want to disturb his strange sense peace, but they were on borrowed time. If they didn’t return before dawn, Amarantha would send the Naga after them.</p>
<p>  “I’m going this way,” he voiced with confidence, his head still tilted piercingly toward the distant wood. “Find Tamlin. Keep him from completing the sacrifice until I can find you.”</p>
<p>  She wouldn’t argue with him, not when he sounded so sure in what he planned to do. She trusted him; and even if she hadn’t, she was bound by oath to follow his direct orders. She would lead the white stag as far from the center bonfire as possible to give her High Lord as much time as possible to gather information on Tamlin.</p>
<p>  She nodded once. “I’ll head west along the Summer Court’s borders. I’ll lead it away from Rose Hall.”</p>
<p>  With her plan in place, he was gone in another burst of smoke. Kazi shook her head as she tried to pinpoint where he had jumped to, but the sheer power emanating from the Fire Rite was interfering with her senses. She could only hope he stayed out of trouble until they were back in each other’s vicinity. Calanmai always effected Rhysand in different ways, but he was acting particularly strange. He would do his job; he knew what was on the line for them. She had to believe that.</p>
<p>  For the next hour, Kazi tracked the stag across the Spring Court. A stray scratch on a tree where it marked its territory, a collection of weeds cut to stubs where it had its last meal. Eventually, she was sneaking along fresh hoof prints, careful not to leave her own markers behind. Tamlin most likely wouldn’t be in the right mind to notice her presence, but she couldn’t take any risks on a night where his magic was at its highest and most primal.</p>
<p>  The white stag was in a meadow clearing, head bowed as it grazed the lavender flowers. She looked to the constellations above and tried to gauge her position. She cursed as she discovered they were closer to the Autumn Court’s coast than the Summer’s. Following through with what she told Rhysand would pose a greater risk in crossing paths with Tamlin than leading the stag further east or even south to the mortal lands.</p>
<p>  “Damn,” she whispered.</p>
<p>  She would chase it east and hope she could waste enough time for Rhysand to finish his investigations—and personal matter, whatever it was. They would be able to sense each other as soon as the rites were completed, Kazi had no doubts about that; she just didn’t like being apart from him for long periods of time. Her skin itched with the thought of all the trouble he might be getting into.</p>
<p>  She dug a knuckle into her thigh to bring herself back to the present. She’d know if Rhysand were in danger, not even the interference of Calanmai would stop her from feeling it.</p>
<p>  Taking one last look around her, she stepped into the clearing with a heavy footstep to alert the stag. Its head whipped up and saw her form in the shining darkness. It bolted in the opposite direction and Kazi winnowed after it, taking care not to spook it into the wrong direction. Whenever it tried to veer too far left or too far right, she would cut it off and direct it back on track.</p>
<p>  After a while, the exhaustion became too much, and she started to jump too far off-course in her winnowing. By the third jump with her eyes closed, she landed farther inland and decided she’d led the stag far enough away from where Tamlin would be looking. Her legs almost crumpled beneath her, but she reached out a hand to stabilize herself against a large oak. Her eyes drifted shut as she tried to stop the world from spinning.</p>
<p>  She only heard a slight scuffle of leaves before her back was being slammed into the tree at her side. Her nose picked up the identity before her eyes had even opened. Spice, earth, and … something like the sun. His mask hid most of the unfortunate scarring on his face, but the golden metal in his left eye socket was a painful reminder of Amarantha’s torture.</p>
<p>  “What are you doing here?” Lucien demanded, forearm laid against her collar as he held her down.</p>
<p>  Kazi rested her head back and rested it on the rough bark. “Enjoying Calanmai. They aren’t exactly celebrating in the other courts anymore.”</p>
<p>  “Don’t lie to me.” His arm did not relieve any pressure. “Linden sensed you the moment you left the mountain.”</p>
<p>  Linden, of course. His own strength would be at its prime so of course he felt her sudden presence above ground and their entrance into his court. He had most likely been tracking her since she’d arrived; his number one job would be to protect Tamlin and Kazi’s record was not the cleanest.</p>
<p>  “Where is he?” Kazi asked, wondering how the guardian was faring in his limited freedom.</p>
<p>  “Tracking down the stag that <em>you</em> scared off,” he said lowly, letting her know that he knew exactly what she’d been doing. “Is the Deceiver trying to stop the changing of seasons now?”</p>
<p>  No, but Kazi was sure the thought had crossed the female’s mind at least twice. Throwing the cycle out of kilter would certainly disrupt the magic system put in place. But Lucien had just unknowingly given her the perfect excuse to keep Rhysand’s presence out of his suspicions.</p>
<p>  “Only a short delay. She was giving Tamlin one last chance to come to her for his final rite as High Lord. Unless … he already has a lady of the evening lined up for tonight’s festivities.” She grinned wolfishly as his forearm dug impossibly deeper into the hollow of her neck. She hadn’t been expecting to make any investigations of her own.</p>
<p>  “Kazimyrah,” Linden’s voice rose from the tree line beyond them. He approached with a levelled expression and a hand in his bow.</p>
<p>  “Linden,” she greeted, unable to look at him fully as Lucien still had her pinned. She was sure she could push him off with ease, but the longer they were distracted with her, the more time Rhysand had. “Long time, no see.”</p>
<p>  He moved into her line of sight so she could see the green leafed mask covering half of his young face. “The answer is the same as every year. Tamlin will not take Amarantha as his lover.”</p>
<p>  “Even if its his last chance?” Kazi asked. Her head nestled further against the bark to look at the sky. Dawn was quickly approaching.</p>
<p>  “It makes no difference,” he responded, sounding colder than he had ever been to her in his short lifespan. “Even if she made you kill every last fae in Prythian, the answer would remain the same. Now, if you’d kindly leave the Spring Court to its celebrations and deliver his refusal.”</p>
<p>  Kazi was almost glad she was being restrained. Linden had every right to be harsh with her, she had done terrible things under Amarantha’s rule; Nostrus and Brutius had not been the beginning nor the end of her long line of casualties. But it still was not beneath her to defend herself and her own intentions—even if they were proceeded by horrid actions.</p>
<p>  “And it makes little difference to Amarantha considering his 49 years are almost up.” She eyed the two in front of her with scrutiny, trying to catch any hint that may betray the existence of a mortal woman. They did not flinch or tense, but Kazi was trained in the art of interrogation—both peaceful and less so.</p>
<p>  From behind their darkened masks, she noticed their eyes flicker to the center of the Spring Court. Rose Hall.</p>
<p>
  <em>  So it was true.</em>
</p>
<p>  The revelation struck her in a strange way. Tamlin could be free. He could obtain his powers once more and strike down Amarantha’s rule if only he wanted to. He could do many things with his curse broken … but would he?</p>
<p>  The answer was less striking. <em>No, he wouldn’t.</em></p>
<p>  “I’m sure I don’t have to remind you how long he has left,” Kazi assumed.</p>
<p>  Lucien let his elbow press uncomfortably in her shoulder joint once more before releasing her. “Get out of here before I drag you to the altar and have Tamlin sacrifice you instead.”</p>
<p>  She stepped away from the tree and brushed her leathers off. Lucien sniffed and wrinkled his nose in disgust, smelling the permanent remnants stained into them. No matter how often she soaked them in boiling, soap water, the heavy stench of iron remained. She had accepted the constant smell long ago and no longer wanted to empty her stomach whenever she put them on.</p>
<p>  “Enjoy the rites,” she gifted them shortly before winnowing away to the border of the Summer Court to wait for Rhysand.</p>
<p>  She stood there in the darkness for another 30 minutes, carefully evading every lick of artificial shadow that tried to touch her. She did not need them running back to their master to tell him of her short visit to the surface. No need to offer him a semblance of hope that she may be there for good.</p>
<p>  After a particularly jerky spin away from a wisp, she came face to face with her High Lord leaning against an oak. His head was tilted low enough that she could see his expression. He knew exactly why she was dancing around the darkness as if a monster were at her heels. She did not stare at his pitying eyes, afraid he would see her own dreariness.</p>
<p>  “Did you get what you need?” she inquired, once more stepping back from a persistent strand.</p>
<p>  He nodded and stood up straight. “Let’s go.”</p>
<p>  They were back at the entrance of the mountain with one jump, Kazi only feeling a second of dizziness before she regained her balance. They both took one glance around the open air to take it all in one last time before they descended.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>  —<strong><em>AMARANTHA</em></strong> was hardly ever mollified.</p>
<p>  And that morning was no different.</p>
<p>  The throne room was bare except for the High Lord of the Night Court, his loyal guardian, Amarantha, and her own pet who had become an obedient slave over the decades. The Attor was cruel and reserved no shred of sympathy for any subject Under the Mountain other than his mistress. Kazi hated him and his crooked morals.</p>
<p>  She glared at his salivating canines as she stood dutifully beside Rhysand giving the report. The creature sneered his plain dislike for her, and she tuned back in to the account.</p>
<p>  “There is evidence of a human living on his lands. Whether they are capable breaking the curse is unknown. It will take more investigating.” Kazi recognized a hidden aspect to his voice, almost a reluctance to reveal his findings.</p>
<p>  “There is no need,” Amarantha disagreed. “Tamlin would not take in a mortal if they weren’t able to break his curse. The human beast must feel something for him to stay there for all these seasons. <em>Disgusting</em>.”</p>
<p>  “We must send a sign that we know of this,” the Attor hissed conspiratorially. “A most gruesome one. Enough to scare the filthy mortal and the lordling.”</p>
<p>  Amarantha considered this suggestion atop her throne, fingernails tapping against her armrest. “A message.”</p>
<p>  “A threat,” the Attor added. “A body torn to pieces, a mangled corpse on their doorstep.”</p>
<p>  The female was staring Rhysand down and Kazi restrained herself from stepping in front of him. He was not in any danger. Her face contorted into a scheming delight framed by malice.</p>
<p>  “Tell me, Rhysand, what did Tamlin’s brothers and father do with your mother and sister?”</p>
<p>  Kazi visibly flinched as the memory rattled her skull. The heavy boxes floating down the river, Rhysand’s youthful, pained roars of fury, the Illyrian camp going silent as he mourned and raged over his mother and sister, the disaster that became the Hewn City as Rhysand’s father tore apart the court. The memory of the High Lord and Kazi’s father storming the Spring Court with Rhysand in tow. The moment she felt her father die and pass on his powers to her. It was the day she became a guardian and the day Rhysand became a High Lord.</p>
<p>  “Tore their heads from their bodies and de-winged them,” Rhysand replied without a hitch. Kazi knew better than to believe the unfeeling tone in his voice. The memory of that day still scarred him as much as it did her.</p>
<p>  “What a perfect time to return the favor, don’t you think?”</p>
<p>  However tempting it sounded, they both knew the favor had already been returned. Before their deaths, the late High Lord of the Night Court and Raxleon, Kazi’s father, had decimated the entirety of Tamlin’s family in retribution for their actions. Tamlin was the only one left. But it was not a proposition for them to debate.</p>
<p>  “He has no remaining family,” Kazi said pointedly, trying to dissuade her from the idea. Beheadings were, by far, her least favorite way to kill someone—especially an innocent.</p>
<p>  Amarantha licked her lips and thought for a moment. “His village subjects dwindle every day that passes. They have been migrating to the Summer and Autumn Courts to avoid the blight. One of his remaining people will do the trick. Doesn’t matter who.”</p>
<p>  Kazi and Rhysand bowed their heads in complicity.</p>
<p>  “Two days’ time,” she ordered. They nodded and moved in sync to the grand entrance as their leave. Before they crossed the threshold, Amarantha’s voice pulled them back. “Oh and do let him know exactly who it’s from.”</p>
<p>  There was no need to give her a nod of affirmation.</p>
<p>  Rhysand walked her to her rooms silently. She wanted to ask about what he’d really seen in the Spring Court and what he was hiding from Amarantha, but he kept things private for a reason. He did everything for a reason.</p>
<p>  “I can take care of the message,” he said before she could reach for the handle of her door.</p>
<p>  She stilled and took a deep breath. Some selfish part of her wanted to take his offer and let him do it on his own while the faithful part of her did not want him doing anything remotely harmful to his wellbeing alone. She supposed the latter part was also the one that considered him one of her dearest friends. He did not deserve all that he went through.</p>
<p>  "And you do?” Rhysand asked, betraying the fact that he was reading her surface level thoughts.</p>
<p>  He normally only did so in necessity, but there were times when he reached out to her through her mind to read the thoughts she could never express out loud because of propriety or pure obligation not to. She felt a phantom clasp to the junction of her neck and shoulder, an invisible touch of camaraderie and amity. Her mind conjured up a familiar feeling of indebtedness and gratitude to give him.</p>
<p>  "If anything, I will forever be indebted to <em>you</em>,” he corrected with a shake of his head. “Let me do this and then maybe I’ll be a step closer to repaying those debts.”</p>
<p>  Kazi’s loyalty did not want her to relent, but she could feel the hand at her shoulder grow tighter with her stubbornness. She did not want to witness cold-blooded killing, did not want to be the cold-blooded killer. But both of those were unavoidable. So maybe, maybe just this once, she’d take a break.</p>
<p>  Her head ducked as she gave in.</p>
<p>  The phantom hand lifted from her shoulder only to nudge her cheek gently. Her head tilted toward the feeling involuntarily, so starved for any touch that wasn’t meant to inflict pain on her. If she could bottle the feeling of kindness, she would, and she would cherish it in the dark moments of the night when all she had was empty cold.</p>
<p>  “Sleep,” he said finally and pulled himself from her head.</p>
<p>  Kazi entered her room after he’d left and rested against it as it closed behind her. She could feel the other presence in her room and twitched to the cinquedeas in their sheaths.</p>
<p>  “Leaving your door unlocked around here is mighty careless of you,” Nazir rasped from the shadows. He emerged with his hood drawn up and over his eyes so she could only see his mouth and nose. “I could have been anyone with less than honest intentions.”</p>
<p>  Kazi was not about to say that she was already visited biweekly by a female with less than honorable intentions. She was sure he already knew.</p>
<p>  “And what intentions have you brought me, exactly?” she asked, maneuvering around in the dark to light candles.</p>
<p>  “The virtuous kind,” he responded. The cloaked male took a seat at the foot of her bed and watched her work. “Beron wants information of the outside. Specifically, on Tamlin’s progress.”</p>
<p>  Kazi paused with the fire poker in her hand. “Virtuous? This sounds more like a solicitation of evidence. I work strictly for Amarantha and Rhysand. If Beron wants information, he can find his own spies.”</p>
<p>  “Quality spies who are sympathetic to the High Lords are quite difficult to come by these days, believe it or not.” Kazi did not make an outward show of her recoil. Rhysand had been tasked with rooting out all the spies within Amarantha’s court after the Nostrus rebellion and she had been tasked with ridding them of their tongues and ears. “Besides, why not get the information while its fresh? So … is the Spring Court doomed to arrive her come the end of the 49 years?”</p>
<p>   “Our investigations were inconclusive,” she chose to say.</p>
<p>  "Now tell me why I don’t believe that.”</p>
<p>  He stood to help her with her weapons belt as she unbuckled it. He grabbed it from her and set it on a dresser. His head leaned closer to her and she could smell the spice and fire of his home.</p>
<p>  “What does Beron expect will happen if Tamlin receives full capability of his powers?” she returned. “He can’t possibly expect him to come and save everyone from Amarantha’s wrath. He will protect himself and hole up in his court until the blight has taken over the rest of Prythian. He will be content in knowing he’d left everyone else to her rule. Tamlin knows nothing except self-preservation and ignorance.”</p>
<p>  The memory of Tamlin’s father and brothers killing Rhysand’s family and her father was now at the forefront of her mind.</p>
<p>  “Amarantha is the rightful High Queen now.”</p>
<p>  Nazir inspected her carefully beneath the shade of his hood. “You put up a good front, Kazimyrah; I salute you for that. But you’ve lost all ability to sense when you are among friends and when you are not.”</p>
<p>  She did not dare answer him. She had long since guessed that he suspected her façade, but he had yet to confront her about it.</p>
<p>  “You’ve strayed too far,” he concluded and retreated. His cloak billowed behind him faintly as he walked to the door. Before he left her alone, he turned his head slightly to her. “If it wasn’t clear, I am a friend, Kazi.”</p>
<p>  She did not move from her spot by the dresser.</p>
<p>  Murderers did not have friends. Murderers were only friends with the reaper.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As always, let me know if there are inconsistencies with this and canon. Obviously this takes place during the Calanmai where Feyre first meets Rhysand (and we can see a little bit of his wistfulness at sensing her here).</p>
<p>This chapter really stumped me because it wasn't all that exciting, it was mainly just plot building and establishing character relationships.</p>
<p>Also, has anyone caught onto the shadow thing yet?<br/>This fanfic is really different from what you guys may normally be used to.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Purity of Revenge</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>  —<strong><em>SOMETHING</em></strong> was off with Clare Beddor.</p>
<p>  Kazi saw it in her eyes. The confusion, the fear, the terror. Her pleas weren’t just genuine, they were clueless. She did not even know why she was fighting for her life at the edge of Kazi’s blade. And one look into Rhysand’s eyes told her everything she needed to know.</p>
<p>  This was not the right girl.</p>
<p>  At first, she thought maybe he had brought in the wrong female so that Tamlin still had a chance at breaking his curse. Perhaps he thought that if the High Lord of Spring were free, he would use his full power to liberate them Under the Mountain like the other High Lords believed. But that didn’t sound like Tamlin, and it didn’t sound like Rhysand to depend on someone else in that way. But the longer she thought about it, the less it made sense.</p>
<p>  Why was he protecting the real mortal?</p>
<p>  It wasn’t him acting out of mercy, she decided easily. Submitting another family to death in place of the real girl was not mercy. Dragging the unknown girl to the mountain fully knowledgeable that it wasn’t the real one was not mercy. Making Kazi torture an innocent just after she watched the destruction of her family was not mercy. Not for anyone.</p>
<p>  So why?</p>
<p>  But she could not read his mind, she could not see inside those guarded, violet eyes and decipher just what logic he was riding on. He never did anything without thought or motive—though it may have been misguided at times. She supposed knowing really wouldn’t change this girl’s fate, she would still die in the end. She would still—</p>
<p>  “You anger Her Majesty by hesitating!” Amarantha’s precious Attor hissed. His claws held Clare Beddor down, licking his lips in anticipation for the first strike—whatever it may be.</p>
<p>  Kazi took a moment to look up at the High Queen herself, seated alongside a stoic Tamlin. Even <em>his</em> eyes—they were not revealing at the best of times, but they also held a sheen of puzzlement. This girl was not the one he had been harboring in his court for the past few seasons, nor was it anyone he knew. She was innocent.</p>
<p>  Amarantha sighed in disdain, “You give your victims the wrong idea by dawdling.”</p>
<p>  Kazi did not like to think about that truth. She took the time for herself, to mourn what she was about to do, and they would always think that she was having second thoughts—which she was, but she could never act on them. It was an unintentionally cruel taunt spurned from her own selfishness. She gave them false hope only to take their pulse the next second.</p>
<p>  “I said,” Amarantha drawled menacingly slowly, “<em>break</em> her fingers.”</p>
<p>  A resolute snap met the ears of every fae in the room. Clare Beddor sobbed into the gag at her mouth, tears streaming down her face in rivers as she tried to cradle her mangled thumb. She was able to pluck the damaged extremity out of Kazi’s own trembling hands to nurse it at her chest.</p>
<p>  “Tell me, beast,” the Deceiver spat, “did you ever think a fae could love a foul thing like you?”</p>
<p>  Clare shook her head adamantly and her gasps of suffering subsided so she could moan a negative. Even if it was the obvious answer to such a question, Amarantha was not appeased in the slightest—but when was she ever? “The rest.”</p>
<p>  Kazi bit her cheek till it bled as she snatched the girl’s hand back to break her pointer finger in two places. The young girl shrieked and yanked back against Kazi’s unwavering strength to no avail. Her flooded eyes looked up at the guardian and seemed to plead for mercy. But there would be no other mercy than death for her now.</p>
<p>  Each snap felt and sounded like shattering glass in her hands. There was something so barbaric about torturing someone with your bare hands. Something so heinous and wrong. It was torture in the most wicked way; it was a poison to Kazi’s soul and heart. She could feel the foul, black ooze of corruption seeping into her flesh and bones. It ran through her bloodstream like burning slag. And with every bone crushed between her fists, there was another round of sobs racked from Clare’s body.</p>
<p>  It was only as Kazi reach the sixth finger and the human began to choke on her own spit with the gag around her mouth did she falter. The mortal looked through her soggy lashes with a new plea in her eyes. <em>End it, end it all.</em> She could do it, she could take her knife and run the blade through her chest like she’d done to so many others. It would be a more peaceful end for the girl. It would be a more peaceful end for Kazi.</p>
<p>  She could deal with Amarantha’s repercussions. She could handle whatever consequence the Deceiver threw at her. But she could not continue to break every bone in the young girl’s body for something she did not do.</p>
<p>  So with an obsidian heart of darkness, Kazi dared to look into the girl’s eyes one last time with remorse. Even in her deranged state of misery, she must have seen the intention and resolve in Kazi’s eyes because she titled her head back and took one last deep, heaving breath.</p>
<p>  The Guardian of the Night Court drew her cinquedea and punctured Clare Beddor’s chest all in one terribly perfected move.</p>
<p>  “No!” Amarantha shrieked in outrage as she stood from her throne.</p>
<p>  The Beddor girl collapsed at Kazi’s feet, blood leaking onto her boots and the ground.</p>
<p>  The throne room was eerily silent as all the fae watched to see what would happen next. Kazi was never defiant, always doing her job without question and without prompting. She wondered what they thought of her after such a display. Did they think the truth? Did they think she had provided a mercy upon the poor girl? Or did they think she just snapped and killed the girl because she could not wait to kill her? Did they think her a ruthless murderer addicted to the feeling of blood on her hands?</p>
<p>  She decided it was better not to know.</p>
<p>  The Attor shrieked as if she had taken the blade to <em>his</em> heart. His head was shaking in distress as he looked between his mistress and Kazi with horror. “You dare disobey—!”</p>
<p>  “Quiet!” Amarantha hissed at him as she descended the dais with graceful lethality. The Attor snapped his jaw shut and back out of her whirlwind. The redheaded female approached Kazi with practiced menace. Her voice lowered down into dangerous whispers as she leaned into the guardian’s ear. “Do you think yourself a paragon? Granting her this death like a gift?”</p>
<p>  Kazi’s eyes remained detached and unflinchingly stuck to the back wall where Rhysand stood. He gave no indication of what he thought of her actions. His stare was unyielding upon her own. She felt that warm clasp against her shoulder and neck, a familiar comfort to her in moments where she doubted herself and her loyalty.</p>
<p>  Suddenly, the weight in her hand felt too heavy. She could do it. It would be so easy to take Amarantha’s life, just as she’d done to so many others, just as she’d done to Clare Beddor. Maybe, just this once, she’d even enjoy it. She would seek retribution for all she had gone through, all her High Lord had been submitted to. And she would savor it.</p>
<p>  The cinquedea shifted in her clenched hand. If she flipped it just right and swung outward, she’d catch Amarantha in the gut or the thigh. Either would be enough to catch her off guard. Would the others defend her? Would the High Lords and their courts fight the dark fae and the Attor on her side?</p>
<p>  Just as Kazi was about to really and truly think about doing it—damning the consequences—Amarantha had caught on. One of her hands came to rest over her sticky fist and the other went to the back of Kazi’s neck where her Guardian tattoos began. Her sharpened nails dug into her scalp and her knuckles, threatening to rip her skin to shreds if she so much as threatened to act on her thoughts.</p>
<p>  “You were doing <em>so</em> well, Kazimyrah.” The utterance was both a mockery and a terrible reality check for Kazi. She had done so well in taking orders. She’d killed so well, had slaughtered and tortured <em>so well</em>. “We could have done great things, you and I.”</p>
<p>  And with the fading croak of an ancient spell from Hybern’s book, Kazi finally gave into shadows.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong><em>  —THE </em></strong>world had never felt so cold and…quiet.</p>
<p>  Even the muffled screams a few corridors down seemed to be more like an illusion than a reality. Though, Kazi knew firsthand that the torture chambers were <em>very</em> real.</p>
<p>  She had been stripped of the rest of her powers, her weapons, and her leathers. In their place, she’d received tattered sacks for clothing and blankets and a meal once a day to keep her just barely alive. Every pseudo-morning, she was led down the hall where she met with the Attor and a table of instruments of his choosing. She’d return to her cell with her face and body in ruins only to be healed and polished before the celebrations at night. It was a fight every day and night to not succumb to the darkness, but she endured.</p>
<p>  She endured for Rhysand.</p>
<p>  She endured for her family.</p>
<p>  She would endure for the human girl.</p>
<p>  The mortal had entered the den of vipers not a week after Kazi was sentenced to life in the dungeons and an eternity in pain. Despite being a mile away from the throne room, Kazi felt the shift of the mountain around them as the human arrived with demands of her very own. She came waltzing in, wearing her death wish on her forehead like a crown.</p>
<p>  An hour after her grand entrance, Kazi watched as the Attor dragged the unconscious woman by the nape of her neck into the cell across from her. He tossed her unceremoniously to the muddled ground before locking her up. He paused for a haunting moment to admire the handiwork he’d bestowed on her before turning to Kazi with a sneer.</p>
<p>  “Consider it a gift. Since you like the mortal beasts so much.”</p>
<p>  She gave him no satisfaction of an answer. Any she’d have given would have invited him to torment her more and the last thing she needed was to hear his gravelly voice for another second. He fled the corridors and slammed the dungeon doors behind him. Kazi grimaced as the smell of human blood invaded her nostrils once again. Even down here, where she was no longer the threat, she was not rid of it.</p>
<p>  She watched the unsteady motions of the female’s chest for two hours to make sure she never stopped breathing. In the darkness, Kazi could almost make out her face, but it was so swollen and broken that she couldn’t glean any defining features.</p>
<p>  Only after she started presenting the tell-tale signs of consciousness did Kazi speak up.</p>
<p>  “Are you alright?” Kazi’s rasping voice hoped it traveled to the cell across from hers. She wasn’t sure her raw and dehydrated throat could go any louder if not.</p>
<p>  The woman tried to sit up as smoothly as possible, but her bruising eyes swum with dizziness. Her head tilted back suddenly as if it were too heavy for her neck. She was going to black out again if she moved too fast.</p>
<p>  “Slow down,” Kazi whispered. “You’re only going to hurt yourself more.”</p>
<p>  The girl’s head turned from side to side, trying to find who had spoken but her eyes refused to open fully. “Who’s there?”</p>
<p>  “My name is Kazi. I’m in the cell across from yours.” The guardian moved so she could properly see the mortal’s face. Her nose was slanted unnaturally and purple was gracing her cheeks and eyelids. “You’re in the dungeons.”</p>
<p>  Some realization seemed to dawn on her as her head lifted itself further. “That thing—”</p>
<p>  “The Attor,” Kazi offered, knowing exactly what ‘thing’ she was referring to. Kazi ignored the sliver of relief knowing it would have been her delivering the blows if she hadn’t gotten herself thrown in the dungeons. “Nasty creature.”</p>
<p>  The girl nodded despondently as she tried to maneuver herself against a wall. She winced as her sprained wrist crumpled beneath her. But she eventually made it into a sitting position with her knees drawn to her chest. Her chin settled on her legs so she could still breath evenly through her mouth.</p>
<p>  “Did he get you, too?” she asked as soon as she found a relatively comfortable position.</p>
<p>  “No,” Kazi said, “but I’ve seen what he’s capable of. You’re lucky you were left alive.”</p>
<p>  “I don’t feel lucky,” the girl groaned. “I feel like—”</p>
<p>  “Like shit?” Kazi supplied in good humor, though she felt none of it and she was sure the girl didn’t either.</p>
<p>  Kazi narrowed her eyes as she nodded. This was the girl—the real one, this time—she was sure of it. But why was she here? Why had she come to the mountain? And why was she left living while Clare Beddor had been sentenced to death?</p>
<p>  “What’s your name?” Kazi asked next.</p>
<p>  “Feyre.”</p>
<p>  “Feyre,” she echoed quietly. Such a fae-like name, very regal. “Why are you here, Feyre?”</p>
<p>  The sigh she let out in response let Kazi know that the answer was not a simple one. It was expected; things were hardly ever simple anymore, unfortunately.</p>
<p>  “I didn’t even know about Tamlin’s curse until this morning,” she breathed. “And yet, if I had just spoken my mind when it counted, I could have broken it. If I had just told him—”</p>
<p>  Kazi could not remember a time where she was in a position to comfort someone in tears. Plenty had cried <em>because</em> of her, but she was never able to provide them comfort, only more pain. And the people she surrounded herself with were not prone to fits of emotion. She knew she was underqualified to take on such a task, but she tried anyway.</p>
<p>  “You couldn’t have known, Feyre. Everyone was forbidden to speak of it and telling someone you love them is never easy. Especially when you’re from very different walks of life.” She tried not to think of Miryam and Drakon and all that transpired for them to find love in one another. There was a moment of silence on both sides. “So you do love him?”</p>
<p>  “Yes, but it hardly matters now,” she mumbled bitterly. “And I’m only alive because I struck a bargain with her. I have to complete three of her tasks to free Tamlin and his court. But something tells me she’d see me dead for the third one comes along.”</p>
<p>  Kazi did not want to voice her agreement. There was no need.</p>
<p>  “Why are you down here, Kazi?” Feyre asked after a moment of silence.</p>
<p>  “I…I’ve done some very bad things.” She deserved to be in a prison a long time ago for her crimes. Ironic, that she found herself there after doing the first good thing in decades. “Most recently, I tried to kill her.”</p>
<p>  Feyre let out a sound that resembled a cough but Kazi could hear the laugh hidden underneath. When was the last time she had heard a true laugh? “And you say I’m lucky to be alive? I was under the impression that she killed those who even looked at her without her permission.”</p>
<p>  “You’re not wrong.” She was lucky to be alive, she supposed, if one valued life over everything else. But Amarantha could not kill her in cold-blood without risking Rhysand’s ‘loyalty.’ He was the only High Lord who was completely compliant with her, severing his connection with Kazi would put that in jeopardy. “She’s known to play with her food, unfortunately.”</p>
<p>  “Has she—has she hurt you?”</p>
<p>  Kazi did not answer immediately. This girl appeared strong-willed, but perhaps not enough to hear what she went through every day.</p>
<p>  “Amarantha is…creative with her methods.”</p>
<p>  In other words, yes.</p>
<p>  “I see.” Feyre’s eyes drifted shut and Kazi thought that she might finally succumb to real sleep, but she spoke a minute later. “What court are you from?”</p>
<p>  At this, she stilled. There was every chance that Feyre had encountered Rhysand. In fact, Kazi was willing to bet that she had and that her High Lord had been just as <em>pleasant</em> as ever. Telling the girl the truth might put them on shaky ground, but there was no other answer she could give that wouldn’t eventually be uncovered as a bold-faced lie.</p>
<p>  “I hail from the Night Court.”</p>
<p>  Her eyes zeroed in on the human’s hunched form as she stiffened. So she had met him, or heard the rumors, at the very least.</p>
<p>  “You’ve probably met my High Lord.”</p>
<p>  “Yes,” Feyre replied hesitantly. “Though I can’t say I’d ever like to again, if it’s no offense to you.”</p>
<p>  Kazi almost laughed herself hoarse. Maybe a slight against her High Lord would have offended her once, but it wasn’t really Rhysand who she would be defending now. “Don’t worry, no offense taken.”</p>
<p>  “Does he know that you’re down here?”</p>
<p>  Kazi recalled his last visit to her that morning after her visit with he Attor, carrying three loaves of bread and a chalice of fresh water. He was able to draw away the cold for a short amount of time whenever he came, giving her time to relish the illusion of warmth. And he would brush his fingers over every wound, healing it to the best of his abilities. But his powers were not practiced in the art of nurturing, so she was left with remnants of the events. Just as well, Amarantha always liked to check that she wasn’t going untouched.</p>
<p>  Yes, he knew. But he was powerless to do anything about it.</p>
<p>  “I’m not sure how well he keeps track of his subjects,” she answered evasively. “He’s always busy with something or other.”</p>
<p>  “I heard that he—” Feyre swallowed. “Well, that he was Amarantha’s lover. Is it true?”</p>
<p>  Kazi’s hands clenched at her sides. She wished she could deny a rumor like that, she wished she could tell the truth to <em>somebody</em> in order to clear his name of <em>something</em>. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t because it was true.</p>
<p>  “She does take him to her bed at night, yes.”</p>
<p>  “And that doesn’t…bother you?” Feyre asked incredulously.</p>
<p>  Kazi did not have to lie or beat around the bush with this one. “Of course, it bothers me. But there are games always at play within the court. We can’t even begin to understand the rules or its players. Everyone has their own strategies.”</p>
<p>  “It sure sounds like you know how the game works,” Feyre commented.</p>
<p>  “You pick up on a few things growing up around the court. But mostly, you learn not to interfere.”</p>
<p>  She could see the human nodding slowly in thought.</p>
<p>  Kazi leaned her head against the bars of her cell so she could examine Feyre further. Her wounds weren’t critical, but they were definitely worrisome for infections. And if her nose was not put back in place, it would heal crooked. There was nothing she could do about it in her own shackles, but if she could convince someone else…</p>
<p>
  <em>  Lucien is coming.</em>
</p>
<p>  A voice floated into her head. Rhysand must have been overseeing their interaction for some reason or another.</p>
<p>  Kazi moved to the back of her darkened cell so as not to attract the Spring Court Emissary’s attention. Any hostility he directed her way would send up new alarms in Feyre’s eyes.</p>
<p>  She smelled the spice, nature, and sun before his figure stepped into few. “Feyre?”</p>
<p>  The mortal’s eyes opened as she tried to move closer to him. “Lucien?”</p>
<p>  He dropped to the ground before her. “By the Cauldron, are you all right?”</p>
<p>  “My face—”</p>
<p>  He summoned a faelight to linger over his shoulder so he could see the damage. He took in her wounds and his whole body tensed with unbridled anger. “Have you lost your mind? What are you doing here?”</p>
<p>  Feyre took in a shaky breath and Kazi wondered how she was keeping in her tears. A strong-willed woman, indeed. “I went back to the manor…Alis told me…told me about the curse, and I couldn’t let Amarantha—”</p>
<p>  “You shouldn’t have come, Feyre,” he cut her off again sharply. “You weren’t meant to be here. Don’t you understand what he sacrificed in getting you out? How could you be so foolish?”</p>
<p>  At Feyre’s quivering lip, Kazi could no longer listen to him reprimand her for something she didn’t completely understand at the time. Especially not when she was already reaping the consequences. “You’re not helping anything, Vanserra.”</p>
<p>  He whipped his head around to scowl into her cell, his metal eye whirring as he caught her form in the shadows. His face seemed to twist up even more. “Oh, you want to talk about <em>helping</em>? This is <em>your</em> fault. I should have known when you came on Calanmai; you weren’t just trying to retrieve Tamlin.”</p>
<p>  Feyre was watching her from over Lucien’s shoulder, her bloodshot eyes now shining with apprehension.</p>
<p>  “I wasn’t the one to send her home,” Kazi defended herself.</p>
<p>  “No, but it was your High Lord who threatened her life. We had no choice but to send her away,” he spat. “She could have easily been Clare Beddor tacked to that wall.” Kazi resisted a flinch. “If it weren’t for your meddling, this all might have gone differently. So don’t even talk about <em>helping</em>.”</p>
<p>  Kazi took a deep breath, keeping her gaze away from Feyre’s betrayed one. She could not argue with him, not when he was right.</p>
<p>  “Let’s clean you up a bit.”</p>
<p>  Feyre was silent for a moment before answering. “I think my nose is broken. But nothing else.”</p>
<p>  That was a lie, Kazi thought, her wrist was sprained. She didn’t say anything on it, though. She knew better than anyone what it meant to admit to injuries. It looked weak.</p>
<p>  Lucien looked over his shoulder down the corridor. “The guards are drunk, but their replacements will be here soon.” He studied the girl’s face as he gently touched the swollen bridge of her nose.</p>
<p>  Before he moved any further, Kazi spoke up again. “You have to set it first. Healing it wrong may cause breathing problems.”</p>
<p>  Lucien did not so much as look at her as he changed his position and took Feyre’s nose in between his palms. She nodded shakily for him to continue and she closed her eyes in preparation. There was a swift crack and pop as he jerked his hands straight together. There was a gasp and a cough before Lucien was having to gently lower the girl to the ground. She’d fainted from the sudden spell of pain.</p>
<p>  Kazi watched as Lucien took this time to use faint healing magic on her. The power was strange for a descendant of the Autumn Court, a land built from fire. She was only able to think of the strange ability for a moment before Feyre started to stir. Lucien was kneeling over her and frowning.</p>
<p>  “I couldn’t heal you completely—they would know someone helped you. The bruises are there, along with a hideous black eye, but…all the swelling’s gone.”</p>
<p>  “And my nose?” she asked quietly, hand coming up to brush her face.</p>
<p>  “Fixed—as pert and pretty as before.” Kazi noted the interesting friendship between the two. It reminded her of herself and Nazir…as they were before.</p>
<p>  “I thought she’d taken most of your power,” she said.</p>
<p>  He shrugged and nodded to the light he had shining over his shoulder. “She gave me back a fraction—to entice Tamlin to accept her offer. But he still refuses her.” He inspected her face once again. “I knew some good would come of being down here.”</p>
<p>  “So…you’re trapped Under the Mountain, too?”</p>
<p>  Lucien nodded grimly, taking a glance back at Kazi who had yet to look back at them. “She’s summoned all the High Lords to her now—and even those who swore obedience are now forbidden to leave until…until your trials are over.”</p>
<p>  Thirty years ago, Amarantha allowed Kallias, Tarquin, and Helion passage to their courts as they had no one else to watch over their position in their stead. All they had to do was bow and swear fealty to her during her reign. With no other choice, they gave their vow and were gone the next morning. The others had remained behind as they had others to watch over the courts in their place. That, or they just refused to submit to her rule. Rhysand was also allowed passage in and out of the mountain, but he never dared return to anywhere but the Hewn city for fear of one of Amarantha's spies following him to Velaris.</p>
<p>  Feyre stared at his metal eye for a moment. “That ring,” she started. “Is it—is it actually Jurian’s eye?”</p>
<p>  Kazi thought about the ring and necklace that adorned Amarantha every day. They were statement pieces worn simply for her own pleasure. They were trophies of her most favorite kills.</p>
<p>  “Indeed.” Lucien cringed. “So you really know everything, then?”</p>
<p>  The girl shook her head. “Alis didn’t say what happened after Jurian and Amarantha faced each other.”</p>
<p>  Kazi couldn’t stop her flinch then. Flashes passed through her mind as Lucien relayed the events of the following weeks. The carnage of the battlefield, the soldiers lying dead on both sides, the screaming as the Deceiver tore Jurian limb from limb. Amarantha’s choice to pursue Jurian instead of aid Hybern had been the only thing that stopped them from winning the war, but it was still an awful loss.</p>
<p>  Feyre shuddered as Lucien finished telling the tale of Jurian’s gruesome end. “Is Tamlin—”</p>
<p>  “He’s—” But the sound of scuffling boots on the opposite side of the dungeon doors sent him standing. “The guards are about to change rotations and are headed this way. Try not to die, will you? I already have a long list of faeries to kill—” he sent a fleeting glare over his shoulder to Kazi’s bored expression, “—I don’t need to add more to it, if only for Tamlin’s sake.”</p>
<p>  And then he vanished in a swirl of his faelight.</p>
<p>  The new rotation of guards made their rounds and checked on Kazi and Feyre. Satisfied that they hadn’t managed to cause any trouble or escape, they wandered off to keep watch at the door.</p>
<p>  Kazi waited for Feyre to say something. She waited for five minutes.</p>
<p>  “He said it was your fault.” The human’s vice wasn’t soft with fragility. It was soft with tempered anger. “How could it be your fault?”</p>
<p>  “Like I said,” she sighed, “I’ve done some terrible things.”</p>
<p>  “Like what?” she pressed.</p>
<p>  “For a time,” <em>for a very long time,</em> “I did everything Amarantha asked of me. It wasn’t pleasant and it is not something I will look back on with fond memories.”</p>
<p>  “So why did you do it?”</p>
<p>  Kazi thought about her answer. She’d done it for so many reasons that wouldn’t mean anything to a human. Linden might have told the girl about what a Divine Guardian’s purpose was, but Linden wasn’t anything like her. Linden was good, Linden was kind. Linden had not been forced to kill and slaughter.</p>
<p>  “There was a game to be played.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>While rereading ACoTaR, I realized that I already messed up a tiny fact. Three High Lords were killed in Nostrus' rebellion, not just him and Brutius. Well, that didn't fit my agenda so.</p>
<p>Let me know if there are other discontinuities.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Hunting the Monster</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>  —<strong><em>WORRY</em></strong> was not a feeling Kazi felt.</p><p>  Worry stemmed from threats and threats could always be removed. It was her job, her obligation, her <em>sworn duty</em> to ensure threats were eradicated before they could do any harm. So no, worry was not something she felt. She did not feel it when the Attor dragged her to the arena, did not feel it when she was shoved to her knees before the High Queen’s throne, did not feel it when the collar and chains were locked around her neck. She did not even feel it as the female traitor herself strutted into the hall with a wicked gleam in her eyes.</p><p>  But she could not stop the dreadful clench of her heart as she watched the dark fae shove Feyre Archeron to her knees at the threshold to the arena grounds. Kazi knew exactly where they were and what resided beneath them. And she also knew that Amarantha had every intention on killing the mortal before the day was done.</p><p>  There was nothing the guardian could do, restrained in a collar and kneeling by Rhysand’s side like a hound. It was a humiliation, to be present but unable to protect in the way she was born to do. She was there only to amuse Amarantha and everyone else who took enjoyment in seeing her chained up. Unfortunately, Kazi believed a majority of the room were among that group. She’d done awful things, directly or indirectly, to them all. Seeing her at Amarantha’s mercy was nothing short of what she deserved. So she did not bare her teeth or lash out as the wicked queen caressed her cheek with talon-like nails before moving to her spot on the throne.</p><p>  Kazi was grateful for the bonds around her wrists as they kept her from ripping at her own skin where the female had touched her.</p><p>  Anahera, though she only spared one glance in her direction before taking a stand next to Tarquin, was clearly not opposed to the public degradation. Kazi had earned her ire, she knew; killing Nostrus and Brutius had sent her fellow Divine into a spiraling madness for ten or so years before she recovered. The other Divines seemed to look upon her with something akin to pity or indifference. Serana spelled her solemnity plainly with a frown while Nazir’s clenching jaw was hidden beneath his hood. Tsavani and Alistair had given her two blank once-overs before taking their own positions on the platform. It hurt her more than she thought possible at this point. Linden, though he was probably kicking himself for it, also gave her an ounce of his empathy. They were on shaky ground considering her involvement on Calanmai, but the Guardian of the Spring Court was known for his compassion and forgiving nature—both valuable traits when dealing with Tamlin.</p><p>  The High Lords did not so much as look at her. A small, and unintentional, mercy. She’d rather them look away with apathy than stare at her with disgust or even fear. The only High Lord to grant her their attention was her own.</p><p>  She couldn’t begin to imagine what he must think of her, so powerless. There was one other instance where she’d been as such: after she’d slaughtered the Children of the Blessed and the High Fae of the Summer Court. Then, she’d been too far gone with hatred for herself that it didn’t matter what he thought of her—nothing mattered in that moment. But now, in full consciousness of her position, she was free to feel ashamed, free to feel unworthy of their bond.</p><p>  But Rhysand only offered that silent and invisible hand to her shoulder. The action only further convinced her of her inadequateness for he only provided her that small comfort in her darkest moments.</p><p>  At least he did not look at her with pity. He did not look at her at all, in fact. Instead, his eyes were lazily zeroed in on the mortal girl in front of them, far more focused on her than on the howling fae around them, calling for gruesome entertainment, or the deadly pit under feet. His violet eyes betrayed nothing but practiced intrigue and amusement.</p><p>  Kazi tried to steel her eyes into something resembling Tamlin’s—cold and detached. The guardian may not have been the main attraction, but any weakness could easily be exploited at any time. Amarantha had made that blatantly clear.</p><p>  Feyre’s trembling legs deceived the upward, defiant tilt of her head. The fae surrounding her mocked her show of bravery, but Kazi commended her for it. It was the strongest soldier who could raise their chin and stare a nightmare in the eye.</p><p>  The jeers and taunts dissipated with only slice of Amarantha’s hand. The crowded arena silenced to give the female all the attention she craved. “Well, Feyre,” she began, the hand that had brushed Kazi’s cheek minutes ago settled delicately on Tamlin’s knee. Her favorite hand, the hand that held Jurian’s horrid eye. “Your first task is here. Let us see how deep that human affection of yours runs.”</p><p>  <em>Affection.</em> She’d said it like it would be her saving grace in the trenches. Affection would not save Feyre, would not stop the monster from devouring her in seconds. The only thing that might help the human was instincts and grit. And if Kazi had learned anything in those dungeons where she and Feyre resided, the girl had both.</p><p>  “I took the liberty of learning a few things about you,” Amarantha continued with increasing pleasure. “It was only fair, you know.”</p><p>  Feyre’s back straightened uncomfortably and Kazi wanted to tell her to stop locking her knees. The last thing Amarantha deserved was the satisfaction of seeing her faint.</p><p>  “I think you’ll like this task.” The hand that wasn’t preoccupied on Tamlin’s frozen knee waved at the pit before them. “Go ahead. Look.”</p><p>  Kazi did not need to look to know what Feyre was seeing. A pit of mud and sick. Trenches constructed two feet wide and twenty feet high. A home built for one of the most macabre monsters in Prythian.</p><p>  Only the fae closest to Amarantha could hear her chuckle under her breath before she signaled for the Attor. He gave a shallow bow in her direction with a gleeful grin before leaping off into the air to grapple Feyre. She shrieked as he dangled her around the cavern, jostling her in front of the cheering fae. It was despicable, their delight in seeing this show of indignity. Kazi memorized the faces of those who dared to smile or join in.</p><p>  After several turnarounds, the Attor finally descended to deposit Feyre in the trenches. She fell the few feet from his claws and slipped on the mud. The faces now pictured clearly in Kazi’s mind all laughed at her imbalance. She imagined a cinquedea going in each of their hearts—finally a killing well deserved.</p><p>  She watched as Feyre’s head whipped around, eyes scrutinizing every detail of her situation. They were the calculating eyes of a perfect—</p><p>  “Rhysand tells me you’re a huntress,” Amarantha said. Feyre swallowed down whatever fearful thought ran through her head. The fae queen’s lips turned up into a serpent’s grin as she flicked her fingers one last time. “Hunt this.”</p><p>  Kazi ignored the flash of worry that threatened to make her stomach overturn its contents. Worry, just like affection, would do nothing for the girl.</p><p>  The ground rumbled as the cage deep below the mountain released its beast. Even Feyre’s ears seemed to pick up the instantaneous swift and slithering sound below the surface. It was fast approaching and Feyre had yet to move from her spot in the open. Kazi wanted to shout at her to—</p><p>  “Run,” Amarantha whispered with delight.</p><p>  Feyre, whether she heard the command or not, listened.</p><p>  Her back foot slipped only slipped once as she leapt into motion, thankfully the opposite direction to where the Middengard Wyrm emerged. It was just as horrifying as Kazi remembered. Slick with the mud and sick, the length of its body long enough to circle the whole arena’s perimeter, and its head a gaping black abyss of razor teeth. Its main diet Under the Mountain was wild animals and disobedient lesser fae who had nothing to offer Amarantha as penance. A human was a perfect meal.</p><p>  Feyre took a left at every fork, eventually making a circle in the arena. The tactic was clear, and maybe against a different enemy, it would have worked. But the wyrm was too fast, too close at Feyre’s back. She couldn’t run for much longer and needed to find a hiding spot.</p><p>  As if hearing her thoughts above, Feyre slid to a stop and lunged for a small crevice in the trench wall. The beast went hurtling past the girl, its body hitting the wall and closing up the entrance at her back. She had no where to go but forward. Luckily, she was small enough to squeeze her way through to the other side and toppled to the ground as the mud squelched and released her.</p><p>  She hyperventilated on the ground for a moment before she tensed her shoulders and stumbled to her feet. Kazi could see the moment she decided to stuff her panic away. Could see the moment Feyre decided to be the huntress and not the hunted.</p><p>  Her head turned to the crowd above her, most all of them focused on the whereabouts of the wyrm and not on her. She dashed in the opposite direction of their gazes, utilizing the unconventional resource at her disposal. Kazi, unlike those fae, could not take her eyes off of the girl as she made several smart turns and sprints.</p><p>  As her head rose to check once more, she missed the tunnel entrance right in front of her and fell into the hole. The fae hushed for a moment before exploding into commotion as she disappeared from their sight. Amarantha, as well, seemed to find the flaw in this mishap. With Feyre in the tunnels, there was no way of knowing when the wyrm got her.</p><p>  After a minute or two, the female scowled and huffed in annoyance. “Feyre,” she called. “You’re ruining everyone’s fun! Come out!”</p><p>  The was no answer, of course.</p><p>  Kazi’s eyes took a brief reprieve from the pit to examine her High Lord only to find him leaning slightly forward with his fingers digging into the arms of his chair. She recognized the apprehension in his shoulders, the muscles feathering in his jaw. Her composed High Lord racked with stress over a mortal’s life. It was a sight to behold.</p><p>  She turned her gaze away, pocketing her assumptions for later.</p><p>  Right as her eyes met the pit again, Feyre was scrambling up and out of the pit she’d fallen in, now clutching splintered bones in her hands like weapons. She stuffed them in her belt haphazardly and ran to the nearest wall. Cries of disgust flew up around the cavern as she clawed at the mud and smeared it across her neck, face, arms, hair, every part of her. Kazi watched in incredulity, an unconscious smile almost finding its way to her mouth.</p><p>  “What’s it doing?” a green-skinned faerie from the Day Court whined.</p><p>  Kazi could sense Rhysand releasing the tension in his knuckles as he leaned back in his chair. “She’s building a trap.”</p><p>  She couldn’t ignore the slight hint of—of something in his voice. It wasn’t intrigue or amusement. Not something mocking or teasing. If she had to hazard any kind of guess, she’d say it was reverence…or pride. Something so profound. A voice Kazi was always working to earn from him.</p><p>  “But the Middengard—”</p><p>  “Relies on its scent to see,” Rhysand answered. Feyre glowered up at him, obviously not hearing his words in the same way as Kazi. “And Feyre just became invisible.”</p><p>  The mortal gave one last vulgar gesture with her stained hands before racing toward the wyrm’s side of the arena. She strategically placed broken bones at each corner of the trenches, sometimes even ducking into another pit to grab and collect more.</p><p>  When she eventually reached the last turn before the monster’s body, she stopped to watch the group of fae who were taunting the thing. They dangled mangled arm above its head to tease it into grabbing for it. Kazi grimaced at the sight, not wanting to know where they got the extremity.</p><p>  Feyre finally decided to make her move as she drew the jagged bone across her palm. All the High Fae in the room could smell the explosion of iron as it dripped down her arm and fingers.</p><p>  Kazi’s breath hitched as the wyrm slithered down a roundabout trench instead of heading directly in Feyre’s direction. The fae fell silent as they watched the girl’s plan fall apart. She turned her head to the right, eyes searching the mud.</p><p>  The chains at Kazi’s back clanged in the silence as she jolted.</p><p>  “ON YOUR RIGHT!” Kazi shouted just as Lucien bellowed, “TO YOUR LEFT!”</p><p>  Both gave different warnings with the same message, but Feyre seemed to understand as she bolted to the left trench. Mud exploded at her back as the monster barreled through the trench she’d just been in.</p><p>  Kazi only had a moment of relief as Feyre escaped the wyrm’s attack before pain bloomed at the back of her head. She leaned forward to escape the second hit but the collar choked her as the second hit caught her at the base of her skull. The Attor had struck her at Amarantha’s demand. Across the room, dark fae were restraining Lucien, as well, for his own defiance.</p><p>  They made brief eye contact in that moment, and the hostility she’d seen in his eye when Feyre first arrived, lessened to something like consideration. She turned away from him to eye Rhysand at her side. She expected to see the disappointment in his eyes for her foolish actions, but he was back to clenching his fists as he stared down the pit.</p><p>  She shook her head of its pain before looking back down to Feyre. She was dashing around corners, using the bones she’d placed to make her turns smoother. All her turns were perfectly leading the wyrm to the pit she’d originally fallen in. At last, she took a mighty leap and went down the whole, this time prepared for whatever was inside.</p><p>  The wyrm wasted no time in chasing after her. The top half of its body disappeared beneath the surface before something seemed to catch against the tunnel walls. It struggled for a few seconds, its tail slashing at the air as it wailed before it stilled in a squelch of something other than mud.</p><p>  She killed it.</p><p>  The arena was quiet for a moment before cheering ensued. Whether it was out of pure entertainment or from the anger radiating off of Amarantha’s skin, Kazi wasn’t sure. All she knew was that Rhysand had smiled. It had been small, and she was certain he hadn’t meant for it to slip. And she prayed to the Mother that no one else saw it. But it had been there, the hint of something pure and real. A smile she’d forgotten even existed.</p><p>  Feyre edged out around the wyrm’s body, her skin still completely lathered in something vile and hand clutching a cleaved femur like a sword. She made her way out into the open, so that everyone could see her in one piece. Her chin was held high, not with forced bravery but with something far stronger. Triumph. Even through the bleeding mess of her arm where she must have nicked on something in the tunnel, she still stood tall and unwavering.</p><p>  “Well,” Amarantha breathed, her mouth curved with a little smirk, but Kazi could see the bitterness settled deep within her eyes. This was not how she wanted things to go. “I suppose anyone could have done that.”</p><p>  Rhysand tensed beside her, almost anticipating Feyre’s next move. She took a few running steps and hurled the bone up at Amarantha. The force was not enough to do any true damage but the bone plunged into the mud at the queen’s feet and splattered the hem of her white gown. The message was clear.</p><p>  Amarantha smiled dangerously slow. “Naughty.” She held out a hand to her right and a dark fae handed her the sheet of parchment that had traveled the room before the day’s events. “I suppose you’ll be happy to learn most of my court lost a good deal of money tonight. Let’s see,” she scanned the paper. “Yes, I’d say almost my entire court bet on you dying within the first minute; some said you’d last five, and—” she blinked and turned the paper over to look at the other side with swirling eyes, “—and just one person said you would win.”</p><p>  Kazi had not been privy to the contents of the paper, had not seen the wagers each High Lord had placed. She did not even want to know who had placed what bets or what kind of money was being thrown around. But some sneaking suspicion told her that Rhysand had just doubled the contents of his coffers.</p><p>  The Attor, who had been standing at Kazi’s back ever since her warning to Feyre in the pit, flew down to snatch the girl up from her spot in the pit. She struggled without a sound as he flew back up to the wooden platform where they all resided. He did not release her from his claws, not when she had just threatened his mistress.</p><p>  Amarantha, however, longer cared for further torment. She stared down at the list with a frown. She waved a hand in dismissal. “Take her away. I tire of her mundane face.” Her fingers lightly curled around the parchment and it crumpled slightly in her grip. “Rhysand, come here.”</p><p>  Kazi could feel the strain at her neck as both Feyre and Rhysand moved away from her. Feyre was in danger of infection and blood loss while Rhysand was at the mercy of a silently raging Amarantha. It was her nightmare turned reality.</p><p>  And this damned collar was <em>too tight</em>.</p><p>  She pulled at it as Feyre disappeared from the room and Rhysand wandered closer to the High Queen’s throne. He knew what was coming, he’d known it would happen when he put his name on that paper. And yet, his gait was smooth. He would take whatever punishment, whatever cruelty. And all because he’d wagered on Feyre’s survival.</p><p>  “Don’t you touch him,” Kazi sneered as her High Lord entered the female’s vicinity. He did not look back at her, not even as she launched spit at Amarantha’s feet, next to where Feyre’s splintered bone had settled. “I swear it, I’ll kill you.”</p><p>
  <em>  I will never forgive you! Kazimyrah, do you hear me?! I will kill you!</em>
</p><p>  Words once thrown at her by Anahera rung in her mind. Kazi knew she deserved every last dagger in the heart for what she’d done to the Guardian of the Summer Court. Knew she deserved all her hatred for killing her High Lord. But it wasn’t until this moment, that she truly understood just how serious the female had been in her threats. It wasn’t until this moment that she realized just how much it meant to be powerless to stop a threat against her charge. It felt like ice and fire in her chest, it felt like suffocating under the weight of failure. It felt like death.</p><p>  Amarantha looked at her then, her black eyes lighting up at Kazi’s bruising neck and shaking muscles. “Oh, you <em>swear</em> to kill me? Just like you <em>swore</em> fealty to me 49 years ago? Just like you <em>swore</em> to protect your High Lord until your dying breath?”</p><p>  Everyone was holding their breath, looking upon the High Queen, the High Lord of the Night Court, and his guardian—his guardian who was slowly starting to strangle herself with the pressure of the collar on her neck. Her face was turning red, she was sure of it. She could feel the pain blooming in her head and throat. But she persisted.</p><p>  Something plummeted into Kazi’s stomach as Amarantha’s hand shot out and slapped Rhysand across his cheek, fingernails leaving streaks of blood. Kazi felt her heart squeeze as she yanked against her restraints. The metal chain links groaned just enough to warrant a wary look from the High Queen. “Forgive me…if I don’t quite trust your declarations.”</p><p>  Rhysand’s head had whipped to the side at the strike, his face turned just enough so that he could make eye contact with a fuming Kazi. Her throat burned as he conveyed such a raw sense of guilt. His voice flooded her mind:</p><p>
  <em>  I’ll be okay. Don’t provoke her.</em>
</p><p>  It was, perhaps, the first time that Kazi had consciously wanted to defy her High Lord’s demands. How could she listen to his orders when they went against everything she’d vowed to do under the Mother’s name? How could she be named a Divine Guardian when she broke her one and only duty to the Mother?</p><p>  But she listened.</p><p>  She sat back on her heels.</p><p>  She let Amarantha drag Rhysand off to her chambers.</p><p>  She let him go.</p><p>  Not as a Divine Guardian. Not as Guardian of the Night Court. But as Rhysand’s oldest friend—she let him go.</p><p>  The fae remaining in the arena after their leave slowly trickled out. The High Lords filtered out as well. Still, none of them dared to look at Kazi in her state. She couldn’t find it in herself to be grateful for that small mercy anymore.</p><p>  Let them look upon her. Let them look at what she’d become. Let them look upon a disgraced guardian. It mattered not, to her.</p><p>  There was a hollowness to the room, an eerie quiet in the Middengard Wyrm’s tomb. Kazi wondered if Amarantha would send the Attor to fetch her only after the beast began to rot. Kazi wondered if this would be the new torture, enduring not just the smell of blood on her leathers but the smell of a festering corpse.</p><p>  But there was the intermingling presence of ancient forces that stopped her from completely settling into her new prison.</p><p>  She looked up to find six of her fellow Divines. All of them stood in the spots they’d occupied when their High Lords were there. They hadn’t moved closer nor further from her since the room had emptied.</p><p>  “Is there—” she balked for a moment at how terrible her voice sounded, completely raw after pushing against her collar. “Is there something I can help you with?”</p><p>  She wanted them to just get on with it, whatever they had planned. A beating, an intervention, a killing, maybe they knew a way to strip a Divine of their birthright. She’d certainly deserve all of it. It was the first time they’d all been together alone since Amarantha’s reign; Cauldron knows what they wanted to do to her.</p><p>  Serana was the first to actually meet her eye. “Before…we weren’t sure if we could…”</p><p>  “Trust me?” Kazi finished dully. She wasn’t sure if she could be trusted, so she didn’t blame them. Serana nodded softly. “And now?”</p><p>  “Well,” the dark-haired female started hesitantly as she looked around the group. Kazi did the same. Anahera looked severely displeased, Alistair had his arms crossed in a guarded fashion, and Tsavani’s mouth was turned down in a contemplative frown. The only ones who seemed to look at her with any positive regard were Linden and Nazir. “Now—now, it’s a little different.”</p><p>  They didn’t trust her, was the clear answer. But, perhaps, they did not hate her any longer.</p><p>  “We’ve been talking,” Serana said next, “about what’s best for the High Lords.”</p><p>  “I see,” Kazi said, though she did not. “And what of it?”</p><p>  Before Serana could say anything else, Anahera stepped forward, finally moving from her post. “Ah! How do we know we can trust her? She could just as easily turn around and tell the Deceiver. You know how fickle her loyalty is.”</p><p>  Kazi felt the urge to defend herself but could not come up with anything. Not against Anahera. She had wronged her in the worst way and did not deserve her forgiveness.</p><p>  The other guardians seemed to work in tandem, all finally moving to create a circle around Kazi’s hunched form. She squashed the humiliation.</p><p>  “She does not even deny it,” Anahera snarled as Kazi remained quiet.</p><p>  “I am loyal to my High Lord first,” she said adamantly. “If what you have talked about is, indeed, what’s best for him then I would not go behind your back. You have my word on that.”</p><p>  “Your word,” Anahera scoffed. “Amarantha may be a traitorous bitch, but she was right in saying your declarations mean <em>nothing</em>. I do not trust you; I will never trust you.”</p><p>  “We agreed to tell her, Ana,” Nazir spoke up. “We agreed that if she showed another sign of rebellion, we would confront her. We got two shows of it today.” Her warning to Feyre and her second threat to Amarantha’s life. “I say it’s enough to at least tell her.”</p><p>  Anahera bared her teeth in Kazi direction before raising her head to look at the rest of the group. “If she ends up dooming us all, I will murder you all in the world beyond.”</p><p>  “So we’re agreed…once again,” Serana breathed. She looked down at Kazi, eyes the color of rusty gold with the shine of the sun. “The human’s—”</p><p>  “Her name’s Feyre,” Linden interrupted, a slight bitterness dripping off his tongue. He looked down at Kazi. “And I am only agreeing to this for her, for what you did for her today.”</p><p>  “Okay,” Serana restarted. “Feyre’s last two trials will take place on the next two full moons. On the third night, whether she is alive or not to see it, we are going to move against the Deceiver.”</p><p>  “’We,’ as in…?”</p><p>  “As in the guardians, lass,” Alistair said gruffly. Kazi looked over her shoulder at him. “The High Lords do not know, and we are going to keep it that way. That way, if we fail, our rebellion will not be traced back to them. They live, either way.”</p><p>  “And if Feyre succeeds?” Kazi asked. “If she manages to rescue Tamlin and his court? What then?”</p><p>  By the sour look on Linden’s face and the shifting glances of the rest, Kazi could guess that they did not think Feyre would succeed. And by the silence, she could also guess that they hadn’t discussed the scenario.</p><p>  “We continue on,” Nazir said deeply. “We follow through with this plan until all the High Lords are free or until we’re all dead. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I am shooting for the former.”</p><p>  “So,” Serana sighed, “are you with us?”</p><p>  Kazi looked around at the group once more, finding the blazing eyes of Anahera on her back. There was a madness there, a madness that would never disappear so long as Anahera lived. But she said nothing else about not trusting Kazi. Next, she saw Tsavani’s gaze. She was unable to speak, unable to voice her opinion on this matter due to the loss of her tongue in the war. But something in the way she blinked, slow and soft, made Kazi believe she wouldn’t have spoken against her even if she could. Alistair still stood with his arms crossed and chest puffed, but his stare dared her to say no, dared her to reject their offer.</p><p>  Nazir, Serana, and Linden. They almost looked pleading, like they wanted her to finally take that final step back into their good graces. To finally return to the way things were.</p><p>  Even as she nodded, chain rattling at her neck, she didn’t think it would ever be the same.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This wasn't how I wanted this chapter to go, but I'm not mad with it. I wanted to have all the tasks in a single chapter so we could get out of the mountain, but I think establishing bonds between Kazi and the other characters needs to come first. Sorry, no Azriel yet!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Taste of Death</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>  —<strong><em>SHE</em></strong> was in that room of rotting flesh and mud and sick for thirteen days. By the third day of the decaying process, Kazi longed for a pain other than stinging nostrils. She pitifully envied Lucien Vanserra for receiving twenty lashes. On the sixth day, she began to choke herself with the collar so that she could pass out and take small breaks from the smell.</p>
<p>  The only witnesses to her descent to fume-induced delirium were the twins born of shadows. They had to feed her, relieve her, and then promptly leave her. They offered their services to sneak her out of there, to damn whatever consequences they’d receive for it, but Kazi had turned them away. She didn’t know what she would do if they were brought to Amarantha’s attention. It was painful enough that they were even here in the first place, but to throw them under the Deceiver’s claws for her own sake would be enough to send her into a guilt-ridden depression.</p>
<p>  And then there was the case of the Divine Plan. She had to lay low, they all did. Their plan depended on the element of surprise. Defying Amarantha at every turn would only put Kazi under constant watch, the one thing she could not have as the seven guardians concocted an outrageous coup.</p>
<p>  Kazi hissed lowly as Nuala traced the bruising line on Kazi’s neck. She had been knocking herself out enough lately that her enhanced healing could not combat the speed with which new welts formed. She was actually glad for it, so long as the pain took her mind off the reeking carcass below them.</p>
<p>  “We brought a salve,” Nuala’s delicate voice said as she pulled back her gray fingers. She procured said tin of healing ointment. “Nazir had it made.”</p>
<p>  The guardian shook her head, knowing she needed the pain if she was going to stay here till the next full moon—or perhaps longer if Amarantha believed she still needed to be punished. Nuala seemed to hesitate, as if she might object to the rejection. Kazi looked up at her with stony, resolved eyes. “Give it to Feyre the next time she needs it. No doubt, she will.”</p>
<p>  The twins nodded their assent. Kazi thanked them silently, not just for listening to her but for attending to Feyre, as well. It had been under Rhysand’s orders that they began watching the girl and now they gave Kazi status reports on her every time they showed up.</p>
<p>  Starting a few nights ago, Feyre had been attending the revelry of the fae parties each night, wearing thin shifts of cloth and dark swirls of paint at Rhysand’s behest. She was placed in a drunken stupor every night, the faerie wine affecting her far more than any normal wine she was used to. The twins had explained to her their High Lord’s reasoning for both the manner of dress and the intoxication, and she supposed she understood but the urge to hit him for his backward morals had never been stronger.</p>
<p>  Cerridwen arranged a bucket full of water beneath her head before kneeling down next to it. There was no way for them to bathe Kazi properly with her full body leathers and the shackles at her neck, ankles, and wrists, but they washed her hair and face to the best of their abilities. It also gave them more time to talk.</p>
<p>  Cerridwen used a cup to scoop the lukewarm water and pour it over her head. Nuala stepped back and held a comb and neatly folded towel for when they finished.</p>
<p>  “Did Nazir say anything when he gave you the salve?” Kazi dared to ask. Disclosing information with the twins would put them in the danger she tried so hard to keep away from them, but they were expertly trained in covert affairs. She trusted them with this.</p>
<p>  Cerridwen moved the cup to the bucket once more before answering in her light and raspy voice. “He said he does not envy you.”</p>
<p>  Kazi smiled ruefully even though she should have expected it. Cerridwen’s eyes flickered up to her sister’s for a moment, just a moment. But it was enough of a moment for Kazi to see the silent conversation. For experienced skies, they certainly did little to stop her from seeing their secrets.</p>
<p>  “That’s not all he said, was it?” she asked. She blinked away a stray droplet of water. “Tell me.”</p>
<p>  “It wasn’t Nazir,” Nuala answered instead, her sotto voice taking a lighter turn. “We’ve received word from…the Inner Circle.”</p>
<p>  She cursed colorfully and Cerridwen looked like she might shove the bar of soap in her free hand into her mouth. Any line of contact between the mountain and Velaris was risky. Amarantha’s spies were monitoring all messengers and all suspicious activity—even activity that appeared harmless. Rhysand had strictly cut them off from any strand of communication to keep their beloved city safe.</p>
<p>  “I hope you told him” —for there was only <em>one</em> who would be able to contact the twins successfully— “just how foolish he was for disobeying Rhysand.”</p>
<p>  By their blank expressions, Kazi could guess that they would never even think about calling their mentor foolish or anything of the like. They admired him.</p>
<p>  “Someone better be dead or nearly dying.” She said this with casual impatience, but she knew it would absolutely kill her to discover that one of her family members was in peril. “And if they’re not, then I don’t even want to hear it.”</p>
<p>  “There was a message for you,” Nuala said timidly, stretching out the towel so she could help wring out Kazi’s clean hair. “Strictly for you and no one else.”</p>
<p>  Her immediate reaction should have been to reject it, to turn them away. It should have been her first instinct; to not encourage this disobedience. But Kazi wanted to hear it. Mother, damn her, she wanted to hear it so much that she might have begged on her knees for it, never mind that she was already forced to her knees against her will.</p>
<p>  Their separation had been chiseling away at her soul, slowly chipping away at her. And though she knew this message may be her salvation, it could also be her ruination. Some small part of her knew that if she heard his voice, saw his face, touched his shadows, she may forget herself and her duty. She may compromise everything just to get another taste.</p>
<p>  “Did you report to Rhysand already?” she inquired, biding her time before she had to give her answer.</p>
<p>  Nuala set the towel off to the side and took the comb to her hair. “Yes, he’s received his report.”</p>
<p>  “And what did he have to say about this behavior?”</p>
<p>  The bristles paused at her scalp. “The reprimanding was severe.”</p>
<p>  “Good.” And she convinced herself that it was.</p>
<p>  Nuala carried on in silence, Cerridwen at her back.</p>
<p>  The last time she’d needed someone to brush her hair, it was because she’d been too exhausted to lift her arms from her sides. Too exhausted to take care of herself properly. Too battle-weary to even think of anything but rest. But there were scarred hands, warm hands, ready to take care of her when she could not. There were whispers of reassurance and comfort that she craved in all her dark moments. Maybe it was the memory of those hands, the memory of a time she longed to go back to. Maybe she was just too weak to resist.</p>
<p>  At last, she said, “Give it to me,” not unkindly.</p>
<p>   Nuala pulled the comb through her hair one last time before backing up just enough to hold out her palm, face up and empty. Her gray skin rippled as shadows erupted and wrapped around her elbow and forearm. Slowly, a tendril of deep obsidian formed upon her hand, darker than the shadow-wraith’s own conjurings. It weaved itself in clean and sharp motions as if desperately searching for something.</p>
<p>   As Nuala brought her hand closer to Kazi’s face, the strand of inky midnight stilled harshly. She watched as its movements turned fluid and tame in her proximity, gentle. Though it moved with patience and composure, she could see its eagerness to touch her, the slight jerks to pinpoint the shortest distance to her skin. It floated closer to her, brushing against her cheeks, her chin, her lips. It was a lover’s caress, darkness’s warm embrace. One she’d almost forgotten the feeling of.</p>
<p>   Nuala and Cerridwen were gone, their shadows disappearing while this one stayed behind to bask in her presence.</p>
<p>   It nuzzled her neck, brushing her damp hair away from her collar. It skimmed the edges of her wounds, its breezing warmth sending a shudder through her jittery bones. It moved down her arms and body languorously, sweeping her leathers until it reached her wrists and ankles. It paused to circle them, taking note of every bruise she’d failed to heal, every pale scar that peeked under the hems of her sleeves.</p>
<p>   It was assessing her.</p>
<p>   “You can stop fussing like a mother hen.” She almost choked on the words, seeing the shadows still once more at her voice. After a second, they whipped around, returning to her face. It brushed her lips one last time before crawling to her ears.</p>
<p>   She didn’t breathe as it delivered its whispered message. The message she would tear a mountain down for.</p>
<p>  "<em>Every moment without you is an agony. Every minute you do not return is a blade to my chest. Every day, I wake to an empty bed and I think it might kill me. Still, I endure. I endure so that I may see your face, touch your skin, kiss your lips once more. I would endure the end of the world itself if only to feel you again.”</em></p>
<p>  Her eyes fluttered shut to contain a whirlwind of longing. It was all she could do not to let a tear fall. It took all of her strength to keep her resolve.</p>
<p>  “Pretty words.” She cleared her throat as the shadow wandered its way back into her gaze. “Did Mor help you with it?”</p>
<p>  There was no further whisper, but the flick of an onyx whip against her hair was answer enough. It pulled back from her dark hair and scraped her jaw just enough to make her shiver.</p>
<p>  “It’s agony for me, too,” Kazi finally sighed honestly. “I’ll return to you. I’ll always return to you…But you can’t do this again, not now. Not when things are so delicate. You’ll just have to trust us down here, just like we’re trusting you up there.”</p>
<p>  It pained her to say it, pained her to turn him away when every fiber of her being wanted the opposite. Desiderium plagued her like an incurable disease.</p>
<p>  There was one last nudge of darkness against her forehead before the tendril of shadows dissolved into the spacious room.</p>
<p>  She waited until there was complete and total loneliness before finally allowing herself to weep.</p>
<p>  Utter agony, it was an utter agony.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>  —<strong><em>TAMLIN</em></strong> had begged for Lucien’s life after the first trial, had begged for his trusted friend to be spared. And still, the High Lord had been forced to whip the son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court twenty times. Some part of Kazi almost wished she had been in his place. Some part of her would have rather been tortured so mercilessly that she was on the cusp of death.</p>
<p>  She had been granted 29 days and 28 nights in solitary with a rotting monster.</p>
<p>  There wasn’t one meal that successfully remained in her stomach anymore. Not one bucket of soap-water the twins delivered that made her feel <em>clean</em>. Not one minute where she wasn’t waiting for her misery to end—by any means.</p>
<p>  But on the eve of the 30<sup>th</sup> day, her High Lord came for her.</p>
<p>  She felt him even before he entered the arena. Even through the iron manacles and suppression spells placed on them, she could sense his nearness. Like a beacon of festering darkness, a force drawing her to him. The need to protect, the need to defend. She had missed it, that feeling of purpose.</p>
<p>  She looked up at his silent entrance, scanning him carefully for any signs of abuse. But she knew she would not find any, his toruture was all internal. He paused at the threshold, nose wrinkling in distaste. She almost released a sardonic laugh but decided against it.</p>
<p>  Resuming his trek over to her, he let wisps of darkness curl around his fingers. “I think you’ve spent long enough in this shit-hole.”</p>
<p>  She didn’t even have it in her to smile at that.</p>
<p>  Even before he reached an arm’s length away, he was flicking his hand out viciously to relieve her of her binds. With four simultaneous clicks the shackles at her wrists and ankles fell away. The echoes clanged around the room as they hit the stone floor one by one. The sound of freedom.</p>
<p>  Her hands came together slowly, rubbing the throbbing pain away.</p>
<p>  Rhysand waited until he was crouched directly in front of her before addressing her collar. His violet eyes dug into her own, head at a slight tilt with an unspoken apology. She stared right back, hoping her easy breathing showed her forgiveness.</p>
<p>  “Get it off,” she whispered. She could have cringed at how hopeless she sounded. But she wouldn’t pretend to be someone she wasn’t, not in front of him. Realizing she’d given her High Lord an order and not a request, she added, “Please.”</p>
<p>  He did not hesitate to heed her plea—perhaps one of the only ones she’d ever uttered. His hand brushed her hair over one shoulder so he could look upon the lock at the nape of her neck. She could hear a slight rumble of anger in his chest as he evaluated the intricacies. Obviously, Amarantha had it made with the intention of never coming off.</p>
<p>  <em>Wretched bitch.</em></p>
<p>  Finally, the solid release of the mechanics inside the clasp reached her ears and he eased the block from around her throat. She hadn’t realized just how heavy it was; a literal weight fell away from her shoulders. He pulled it away, staring at it with untempered fury. She watched as he slowly stood, hand clenching around the metal until his knuckles turned a pale white.</p>
<p>  With a guttural growl, he chucked it at the nearest wall, strength unmatched. It shattered upon impact, sending a tremor down Kazi’s spine.</p>
<p>  “I hope you didn’t grow attached to that.”</p>
<p>  An effort to dispel the horrors surrounding the past month.</p>
<p>  “I thought it would have made a rather nice necklace,” she rasped. Her throat raw from heaving and lack of talking for a prolonged period of time. “I had just the dress in mind.”</p>
<p>  Rhysand’s hands moved underneath her elbows to help her stand. Maybe once she would have pushed him away for it, would have demanded the time and space to get up on her own. But she did not think she would last a minute longer in this filth. And she’d been slumped on the floor for far too long.</p>
<p>  Her muscles screamed as she tried to support her own weight. Her legs felt as if they’d give out if she so much as took a single step. Rhysand seemed to notice her shakiness and sighed gently.</p>
<p>  “Don’t kill me for this,” he said lowly.</p>
<p>  She didn’t even have time to tell him it was impossible for a guardian to kill their High Lord before he was swooping down to lift her into his arms. She convulsed with indignation but his grip only tightened around her back and legs.</p>
<p>  She groaned as her arms couldn’t even whip up the strength to hit him. “Killing you wouldn’t be enough.”</p>
<p>  “You let me know when you can stand on your own without toppling over and then maybe I’ll think better on your threats.” There was a smiling undertone to his voice. She’d missed that too.</p>
<p>  Slowly fading into darkness, Kazi’s stomach roiled as they stepped through the fold and entered his private chambers. It was a fight not to send up her guts all over his tunic and polished floors. Perhaps it would be punishment enough for the personal torment he was putting her through.</p>
<p>  His nose twitched again as he stepped further into the room. “A bath first, I think.”</p>
<p>  She did not protest despite the underlying insult. She knew she carried the lingering scent of decaying wyrm. The sooner she was rid of it, the better.</p>
<p>  He sat her down on a stool in the main room before moving to draw her bath. She turned to the vanity, overlooking all the things he never used. Serums, creams, writing utensils, the combs Nuala and Cerridwen have been using when they attended to her. But there, front and center, the salve the twins had received from Nazir. Intended for her but passed on to Feyre Archeron.</p>
<p>  Indeed, the room was coated in the human girl’s scent. She’d been in here plenty the past month.</p>
<p>  She grabbed the tin to take with her into the bathhouse. She would only use enough to take the pain away. With the iron shackles gone, her healing abilities had returned; she could already feel her skin trying to repair itself.</p>
<p>  Rhysand walked back out, hands stuffed in his pockets casually. He opened his mouth to ask her something, but she held up a hand, wincing at the energy it took.</p>
<p>  “I can get there myself.”</p>
<p>  “As you say,” he conceded with a shallow bow of his head. He leaned against the wall to watch her, there in case she went back on her words or collapsed with fatigue.</p>
<p>  She sighed heavily, placing her palms against the wooden desk to push herself to standing. Her arms shook uncontrollably as she made it to her feet. Each step, she wobbled, one hand supported against the wall to keep her balance. She felt humiliation settle within her, knowing he was watching. But then she had to remind herself that Rhysand had seen her this way plenty. Vulnerable.</p>
<p>  Learning to walk as a faerie toddler, just as he was learning to fly with his adolescent wings. After he’d taken her out on a joy-flight quite a few years later and accidentally dropped her, breaking both her legs and her collarbone. After her first war, too battle-weary to even walk off the battlefield. He’d carried her back to the townhouse then, unconscious. She’d woken up in a frenzy, unaware of where she’d woken up and, to her horror, still in a killing mindset. That was the first and only time she’d hurt her High Lord. And that was the last time she had let him carry her anywhere.</p>
<p>  She’d made it to the tub, a small triumphant smile settled on her face. Kazi looked over her shoulder to dismiss him and found him watching with a smile of his own.</p>
<p>  “I’ll have Nuala and Cerridwen come with fresh clothing. The Trial begins in two hours.”</p>
<p>  She nodded once, watching as he disappeared in a swirl of darkness once more.</p>
<p>  In the silence, Kazi just took a minute to breathe. The air was stale, but at least it wasn’t pungent. She wanted to tear at the fighting leathers, remove them from her body and then the world. The smell of blood had been a painful yet needed reminder of her misdeeds, but the smell of Middengard Wyrm was too far, too much to carry around with her. She would ask Nazir to burn them to ash at the earliest convenience.</p>
<p>           </p>
<p> </p>
<p>   —<strong><em>A </em></strong>second, smaller arena had been set up in preparation for the second task. The layout was strange: an inescapable pit down below the crowd of onlookers, a wrought iron gate spanning the width of it through the middle. One on side, Feyre Archeron. The other, Lucien Vanserra.</p>
<p>   The emissary was drowning in chains, just as she had been only two hours ago.</p>
<p>   How ironic, that Kazi had been released while he suffered the opposite.</p>
<p>   She unconsciously traced her hands along her neck, feeling a slight ridge that had scarred over during her time in the wyrm’s company. Neither her magic nor the salve were enough to correct it.</p>
<p>   And now she stood, without a collar, but with a cloth gag stuffed in her mouth to stop her from shouting again. It was possibly the only reason she’d been allowed in the arena for this task, so Amarantha and the others could see her in another degrading position. At least she was standing.</p>
<p>   She lowered her hand and looked around. Linden wore a face of uneasiness beside Tamlin, showing his fear where his High Lord remained indifferent. Nazir, stood beside the four other sons of Autumn, clenched his jaw. It was no surprise that Lucien was his favorite of the brothers. They were watching with sick delight as their younger brother struggled against the chains.</p>
<p>   <em>Bastards.</em></p>
<p>   Amarantha took a step closer to the pit’s edge and bowed her head in Feyre’s direction. It was not born out of respect. She gestured around them. “Here, Feyre darling, you shall find your task. Simply answer the question by selecting the correct lever, and you’ll win. Select the wrong on to your doom. As there are only three options, I think I gave you an unfair advantage.” She snapped her fingers and two platforms on the ceiling, laden with blazing pointed spikes, began to descend. “That is,” she continued, “if you can solve the puzzle in time.”</p>
<p>   Crushed, speared, and burned to death. Kazi almost scoffed at the dramatics.</p>
<p>   All for a puzzle…and a relatively easy one at that. She looked over the inscriptions on the stone floor, already reaching a conclusion.</p>
<p>  '<em>Three grasshoppers were bouncing on a log. Every second, just one grasshopper jumps over the next, one at a time and starting with the first. After nine seconds, which grasshopper is last in line?’</em></p>
<p>  It was a puzzle meant to confuse. The first and second grasshoppers would be alternating every other second while the third one would continue jumping on and on without stopping meaning it would always be last in the line. It had only taken her a few breaths to figure that out, but she had been raised with a finer education than most. Feyre, based on her tense shoulders and wandering eyes, had not figured it out.</p>
<p>  “Something wrong?” Amarantha asked with a raised brow, like she hadn’t deliberately chosen a task that would be impossible for a commoner human girl.</p>
<p>  Feyre did not look away from the writing.</p>
<p>  “Answer it!” Lucien shouted, head already bowed away from the incoming spikes.</p>
<p>  Feyre shook her head shakily as she looked back and forth between the pillars with the answers and her riddle.</p>
<p>  “Feyre!” he cried again. A tear streaked down the girl’s cheek. “Just pick one!”</p>
<p>  But she couldn’t just pick one. She risked killing them both if she answered wrong.</p>
<p>  But she reached toward the levers, hand hovering above each of them as if she might sense the answer from their inner workings. After a moment, she took a sure step closer to the middle lever, a guess.</p>
<p>  Rhysand, from beside her, straightened as Feyre pulled away swiftly. She looked down at her hand, seeing something the rest of them couldn’t in the shadows. She seemed to be battling with herself, always returning to the middle lever even as she tested the others again and again. Finally, her gaze lifted and gravitated right towards where Kazi stood, but her eyes were solely focused on the High Lord beside her.</p>
<p>  “Feyre, please!” Lucien moaned, the sizzling spikes only inches from their heads.</p>
<p>  The human took a deep breath before shutting her eyes. She reached out blindly for the third lever and pulled. Kazi released a sound of relief, the cloth muffling it just enough to not alert the Attor.</p>
<p>  The slow descent of the spikes halted with a groan. Another booming creak followed before they began to rise, the platform beneath Lucien and Feyre coming up as well before they leveled out with the everyone else.</p>
<p>  Both Feyre and Lucien were on their knees now, shaking uncontrollably.</p>
<p>  But something jolted the girl out of her stupor, and she stood to her feet, face set with something steely. There was something familiar about the way her eyes flickered, something familiar in the way she held her ground against Amarantha’s bearing. Something that made her strangely think of her High Lord.</p>
<p>  The High Queen remained silent, as if waiting for Feyre to make a mistake, as if waiting for another threat. But the girl only continued to stare for ten more seconds. The room was silent, not for her successful task, but for being able to stand there and not crumble beneath Amarantha’s fiery glare. It was a threat all on its own.</p>
<p>  So familiar.</p>
<p>  She turned on her heel and walked herself out of the cavern, the dark fae sentries at her back giving her a cushion of space as they marched her to the dungeons.</p>
<p>  It was dead quiet as Amarantha stood to her feet, nose raised. She did not address the room before leaving through another exit, clearly dismissing the crowd. The room broke into murmurs and Kazi blotted them out as the room began to clear. She only had eyes for two others.</p>
<p>  Rhysand, although he looked distracted in thought, reached over and untied the gag around Kazi’s head. She grimaced and swallowed through her dry throat as it fell to the ground. “You’ll be staying in a proper room tonight. The dungeons are filling up with defector fae.”</p>
<p>  She blinked at the news but nodded, assuming she’d be staying in her old quarters. She almost smiled. A proper bed.</p>
<p>  Her eyes then found her next target in the room, chained and helpless. She stopped her hands from touching her neck and wrists.</p>
<p>  Rhysand caught her gaze and heaved a sigh as he moved to step through his darkness. “Go help him.”</p>
<p>  She waited for him to fade into the swarm of darkness before looking to Linden and Tamlin. They stood in quiet conversation, the High Lord of Spring subtly glancing at his restrained friend in the middle of the room. He would not be able to free him himself, lest he risk Amarantha’s wrath. But Linden was under no such watch of the female’s spies.</p>
<p>  She watched as the guardian nodded and turned away from Tamlin’s retreating form. He caught her eye and tilted his head in question. She glanced at Lucien and began shuffling in his direction. Linden seemed to catch on and fell in step with her. If he noticed her swaying, he did not comment on it.</p>
<p>  “Can you break the chains?” he asked quietly. The room was slowly clearing out, the fae all abuzz with the bets they’d made.</p>
<p>  “Break them? No,” she answered. “Try and pick them, yes.”</p>
<p>  They reached Lucien’s hunched form and Kazi stumbled down into a kneeling position, cringing as Linden caught her arm to steady her. She shook him off gently.</p>
<p>  Lucien looked up at them, a sheen of sweat covering each uncovered inch of skin on his face and neck. His eyes searched hers and she knew he was looking for something evil, something wicked. It was there, she was sure of it. She only hoped that he saw the reconciliation, the regret that covered it.</p>
<p>   “Is this some sort of offering? Your atonement?” he questioned. It sounded as if he was trying to force bitterness into his words but was coming short.</p>
<p>   “I have nothing to atone for when it comes to you,” she defended, equally as quiet.</p>
<p>  "No…just to the Mother,” he muttered.</p>
<p>  Kazi did not deign to answer, knowing it to be the truth. She only looked at Linden, face clearly saying <em>Do something.</em></p>
<p>  He sighed. “Lucien, she’s here to help.”</p>
<p>  “There’s that word again,” he grumbled. “Help. Somehow, Kazimyrah and ‘help’ don’t truly correlate in my mind.” There was a moment of silence, the only sound coming from his whirring metal eye. Then there was a rattling of chains as he lifted his wrists before her. “Go on, I suppose.”</p>
<p>  His face was turned to the side, as if he couldn’t bear to see her do something out of kindness. She rolled her eyes and moved to inspect the locks.</p>
<p>  They looked identical to hers.</p>
<p>  For a moment, she just stared, the memory of them around her own ankles and wrists to fresh.</p>
<p>  “Kazi,” Linden whispered.</p>
<p>  She began moving again, willing the small well of darkness in her to come forth in skinny picks at her fingers. They formed like sharpened nails and she began prodding at the inner mechanics of the lock until something clicked.</p>
<p>  One by one, she worked through the manacles until all four laid at their knees. Lucien and Linden did not immediately rise but Kazi did. She would not spend another minute on the ground.</p>
<p>  As she stood above them, Lucien looked up at her, something flickering through his healthy eye. “Thank you.”</p>
<p>  She nodded and began her long and tedious trek to her old chambers, ignoring any stares that trailed her. Kazi had long since given up on thinking about what others thought of her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The most Azriel we've seen yet! I created that grasshopper riddle myself and it hardly makes sense, but I felt it needed to be said. Next chapter should be the last Under the Mountain! Also, Kazi and Lucien are definitely going to be enemies-to-friends. I love him so much and I feel like he needs more representation (Elain will also get more btw). Again, let me know if anything differs from canon.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. To Kill An Empire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>  —<strong><em>KAZI</em></strong> did not drink the wine for many reasons.</p>
<p>  The first being she did not think she would ever be able to stomach a single sip without tasting the bitter mountain ash they’d consumed nearly five decades prior. The wine that started it all. It would forever be a stinging reminder of one of her biggest failures.</p>
<p>  Secondly, she needed a clear head for all the information being passed around by her fellow Divines concerning the third task. Every timed whisper, every slipped note demanded her full attention. There was no room for mistakes.</p>
<p>  And finally, the sight of Feyre Archeron under the faerie wine’s effects was a ward all of its own.</p>
<p>  The gossamer dress she wore was ghastly and the paint covering the rest of her body even more so. The message and warning behind it were clear enough, but it did not stop her gut from turning every time she glanced over and saw the girl. Kazi wanted to fetch a cloak and smother her High Lord with it before wrapping it around her. As if hearing her thoughts, Rhysand’s violet eyes flickered up to meet hers.</p>
<p>  She rolled her eyes from across the room as he pulled her onto his lap once more.</p>
<p>  “I have to ask,” a sensuous hiss erupted next to her and her ear twitched away from its dripping venom, “has he ever made you wear finery so…scandalous?”</p>
<p>  “And what would you do with that kind of information? Sell it to the highest bidder?” she drawled. Maybe there was <em>one</em> reason to drown herself in the wine until she couldn’t walk or think straight.</p>
<p>  Eris offered a wry grin, head turning away from her to survey the room. He grimaced at the faeries who were drunkenly spinning around the floor, lounging around in grandiose furnishings, and drinking away any sense of rationality. “Purely for my own private imagination.”</p>
<p>  “Oh, you have an imagination?” She leaned over, mouth inching dangerously close to the shell of his ear, as she whispered slowly, “Then you will have no trouble imagining my blade piercing every single organ in your body.”</p>
<p>  He hid a smirk behind a goblet of beet-red wine. “It isn’t so hard to imagine, darling. It’s no secret how ruthless you can be with the blade. I’m sure every single fae in this room has had nightmares about it.” He winked. “I know I have.”</p>
<p>  She didn’t disagree with the assumption.</p>
<p>  His head tilted towards her once more as he found nothing exciting beyond their conversation. His eyes scanned her attire for the evening: a velvet black, fitted dress with a modest neckline and a hem that flared out at the knees—it left plenty for him to imagine. But his eyes caught on her neck with interest. His fingers stretched before drifting his knuckles along the gaudy choker at her neck. It was littered with smokey quartz, making it perhaps the cheapest accessory in the room.</p>
<p>  “This is a nice little number,” he cajoled despite its low-grade gemstones. “Though I think I preferred the real deal. The lock added an element of fun.”</p>
<p>  She flicked his hand away as it started to move north toward the bare skin of her jaw. She was done with people touching her.</p>
<p>  “I’m sure a collar of your very own can be arranged…Since you like it so much,” she assured. “It would suit you, I think, seeing as you love to act like a drooling dog when let off your father’s leash.”</p>
<p>  Eris shrugged, the insult sliding right off him. “Can’t help it when the bone looks so delectable.”</p>
<p>  “Go find someone else’s leg to piss on,” she growled. Even standing near him made her fists clench. Too much bad blood, too many reasons to seek vengeance.</p>
<p>  His grin did not falter as he awarded her a shallow bow. “Come find me when you decide a ‘drooling dog’ is better than some overgrown bat. And especially come find me if you ever decide to invade the human’s wardrobe.”</p>
<p>  She turned to send him off with a vulgar gesture, but found he was already halfway across the room on the way to his brothers.</p>
<p>
  <em>  An absolute prick.</em>
</p>
<p>  "You know,” another voice chimed in at her ear, this one more welcome than the last, “I wouldn’t say anything if you decided to make good on your threats. Actually, I don’t think anyone in this room would say anything. His brothers may even thank you for it; one less obstacle on their way to becoming heir.”</p>
<p>  Kazi allowed herself a small smile. “And take away the pleasure from someone else who deserves it more?”</p>
<p>  She could think of one such person. A female-wronged who deserved the honor of sending Eris Vanserra to the Afterworld.</p>
<p>  “I’m sure they would understand,” Serana claimed. “I sure wouldn’t blame you for taking it into your own hands.”</p>
<p>  “Thank you for your vow of silence should I lose my temper.”</p>
<p>  “Of course.” They stood side by side, nonchalantly surveying the room as they conversed. “Alistair wants to make sure you know the plan.”</p>
<p>  Kazi sighed and crossed her arms. Her eyes left Rhysand and Feyre to find the Guardian of the Winter Court secluded in a corner with Kallias. “I know it forward and backward. But this third task…” she drifted back to the human’s swaying body. Alistair and Anahera had intercepted a few of Amarantha’s minions who were involved with the tasks. They’d only lived long enough to tell them what the third one would entail. “It’ll kill her whether she succeeds or not.”</p>
<p>  “Our plan isn’t to save the girl,” Serana pointed out. “In a perfect world, maybe.”</p>
<p>  “I don’t want her to just be collateral.”</p>
<p>  The Guardian of the Day Court stepped away from the wall so that she could stand directly in front of Kazi, blocking her view of the room. Her rusted golden eyes speared into hers.</p>
<p>  “Where is all this compassion coming from?”</p>
<p>  <em>I</em><em>t had always been there,</em> she wanted to say, <em>just kicked under the rug so she could do her job.</em></p>
<p>  Kazi breathed. “I killed Claire Beddor thinking I didn’t have another option. It was only after that I realized there was always a choice and I had made the wrong one—that I had made the wrong choice over and over for 49 years. But Feyre Archeron…she has given me a second chance to finally make the right one. Nothing I ever do will make up for the carnage I caused down here; there is too much blood stained on my hands to ever be rid of it, but if I can just save <em>one</em>, maybe then I’d be worthy of the name Guardian.”</p>
<p>  Serana stood there, contemplative. “If it’s in my power, I will try to keep her safe. For you.”</p>
<p>  A flurry of movement over Serana’s shoulder caught Kazi’s attention and she lightly stepped around her, forgoing the gratitude she should have expressed at the female’s promise. While they’d been in conversation, Tamlin, Rhysand, and Feyre had created a scene in an alcove.</p>
<p>  “Shit,” she murmured as the human stepped out from the dark. The deep purple swirls of paint around her body were a mess of smears and smudges, showing the crowd of High Fae exactly where stray hands had touched.</p>
<p>  Amarantha stared her down as she emerged and walked to the main entrance to take her leave. It was the stare of silent jealousy, but not pure rage, meaning Rhysand had been the one caught with her and not Tamlin. The High Lord of Spring was stalking over to his throne, shoulders set stiffly at his neck.</p>
<p>  Kazi watched in increasing despair as the Deceiver spat harsh words into her High Lord’s ear.</p>
<p>  <em>S</em><em>he wasn’t hurting him. She wasn’t hurting him. She wasn’t hurting him.</em></p>
<p>  Trying to convince herself of it was a lost cause. She brushed by snickering fae, her eyes set on the High Queen. Just as she was about to reach out and yank at the mane of red hair, Rhysand caught her eye.</p>
<p>  <em>Don’t do it.</em></p>
<p>  This was its own form of cruel torture. Kazi’s feet halted against her will, the tattoo running down her spine stung with her resistance. Her fists clenched at her sides.</p>
<p>  <em>One more night, Kazi. Just one more night. Now, go.</em></p>
<p>  She winced as her back flared up. She turned on her heel, teeth gnawing at her cheek. It was impossible, protecting him was impossible.</p>
<p>  Instead of returning to where she’d left the Guardian of the Day court, Kazi fled the room.</p>
<p>  One more night, he’d said.</p>
<p>  One more night until she could finally send a stake through Amarantha’s heart.</p>
<p>  One more night until freedom.</p>
<p>  Or maybe, one more night until her death.</p>
<p>  …A freedom all the same, she supposed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>  —<strong><em>NO</em></strong> bets were placed on the outcome of the third task.</p>
<p>  No one would outwardly wager against the High Queen’s success.</p>
<p>  As such, the throne room was eerily silent and still as Feyre entered.</p>
<p>  Kazi only let her eyes linger on the girl for a moment before checking the position of every guardian and every High Lord, particularly her own. The High Lords all stood in front of their embassies, the guardians dutifully at their sides just as they were supposed to be. Linden was not welcome on the dais with Tamin, or what was supposed to be Tamlin, so he stood next to Nazir and Lucien. Rhysand stood closer to the dais, further from Kazi’s side than she wanted but it had to be this way for their plan to work.</p>
<p>  With her back to the wall, she was free to fondle the hilt of her cinquedeas in the waistband of her trousers at her lower back. Tsavani had discreetly discarded them in her room the night before. Where she found them, she hadn’t said—obviously.</p>
<p>  Feyre strode right down the path the fae had created. She stopped a few feet from Amarantha’s throne, head held high, just like always. A memory of Kazi walking that same path decades prior flashed through her mind.</p>
<p>  “Two trials lie behind you,” the High Queen proclaimed. She was seated in her luxurious throne, completely at ease. “And only one more awaits. I wonder if it will be worse to fail now—when you are so close.”</p>
<p>  Amarantha’s jaw tensed as the only ones to laugh were her dark fae minions.</p>
<p>  The Deceiver did not let the following silence linger. She grinned down at Feyre. “Any words to say before you die?”</p>
<p>  The girl breathed and turned a fraction to her right to address ‘Tamin.’ “I love you,” she said. Two identical tears fell down her cheeks and she let them stay. “No matter what she says about it, no matter if it’s only with my insignificant human heart. Even when they burn my body, I’ll love you.”</p>
<p>  There was no answer, not even a twitch from the illusion.</p>
<p>  This seemed to please Amarantha greatly. “You’ll be lucky, my darling, if we even have enough left of you to burn.”</p>
<p>  Kazi felt a gaze burning into her head and she turned to meet Serana’s gaze. If it was in their power, they’d make sure Feyre left this room alive.</p>
<p>  “You never figured out my riddle,” Amarantha propped up her chin in a hand, “did you?” Feyre did not answer. “Pity. The answer is so lovely.”</p>
<p>  Kazi regretted never asking Feyre for the riddle. She could have helped the girl along; she even could have given her the answer. But there was always something that prevented her from doing so. At first, the human had not trusted her in the dungeons, only speaking to her for sanity’s sake. Then, after the first challenge, Kazi had been stuck in the Middengard Wyrm’s cavern. And then after the second task, Kazi was under constant watch. And she could not risk anything when there were plans being set.</p>
<p>  “Get it over with,” Feyre growled.</p>
<p>  Amarantha swept her hair to the side and looked at ‘Tamlin.’ “No final words for her?” she asked, knowing damn well he wouldn’t have any words to say. She turned her grin to Feyre after a moment of stoic quiet. “Very well, then.”</p>
<p>  The High Queen clapped twice, and the doors swung open on creaking hinges. Three High Fae were dragged in, sacks tied around their heads. Two defector fae from the dungeons and one High Lord in common clothing.</p>
<p>  The dark fae shoved them to the ground at the foot of the dais, all facing Feyre.</p>
<p>  Amarantha clapped once more, and three servants appeared behind each of the kneeling fae. They held dark velvet pillows, wooden daggers nestled on top of each. Dull ash wood daggers. Feyre stepped back as she started to realize what it could mean.</p>
<p>  Kazi willed her to stand her ground.</p>
<p>  “Your final task, Feyre,” Amarantha drawled, waving her hand toward the fae. “Stab each of these unfortunate souls in the heart.”</p>
<p>  The girl’s hands were trembling at her sides. Kazi could feel her own hands clench at her back, remembering the feeling of stabbing fae and mortals alike through the chest. The fae would be the ones dying, but Feyre would not come out unscathed.</p>
<p>  “They’re innocent—” Amarantha added fuel to the fire in Kazi’s chest, “not that it should matter to you since it wasn’t a concern the day you killed Tamlin’s poor sentinel. And it wasn’t a concern for dear Jurian when he butchered my sister. If it helps…” she paused and lifted her eyes, finding Kazi at the perimeter of the room with little trouble. “Dear Kazimyrah did not hesitate to kill innocent Claire Beddor, believing it was you. You see, we fae have no problem ending an innocent’s life, why should you?”</p>
<p>  There was an imperceptible flinch in Feyre’s form as she looked over her shoulder to see the human girl’s corpse tacked to the wall above the doorway. She swung her head to look at Kazi. Hurt intermingled with guilt in the human’s eyes and Kazi felt the latter ten-fold flow through her veins.</p>
<p>  “If it’s still a problem…well, you can always refuse. Of course, I’ll take your life in exchange, but a bargain’s a bargain, is it not? If you ask me, though, given your history with murdering our kind, I do believe I’m offering you a gift.”</p>
<p>  <em>A gift,</em> Kazi could have scoffed.</p>
<p>  The room held its breath as Feyre hesitated. She had every right to refuse, every right to back down.</p>
<p>  “Well?” Amarantha urged. She sat back in her throne, throwing one leg over the other as she outstretched her ring adorned hand. Jurian’s eye swiveled gruesomely upon her finger, eyeing the scene before it. She purred to it, “I wouldn’t want you to miss this, old friend.”</p>
<p>  There was a moment of clarity that blanketed the girl’s irises as she looked around the room, specifically at the masked figures of the Spring Court. This would be for them. This would be for Tamlin. Kazi felt a blooming ache in her chest. She had been in this exact room, in this exact position. Killing for her own High Lord. She wished she could tell Feyre that it would only hurt for a little. She wished she could offer something more than a blank stare.</p>
<p>  She wished she could take the girl’s place.</p>
<p>  <em>W</em><em>hy damn another soul?</em></p>
<p>  Feyre stepped up to the first kneeling figure, her foot dragging heavily along the stone as she fought with herself. She was trembling, tears spilling freely down her cheeks. Her hand reached out for the first wooden dagger, clutching it tightly. Just as she was turning to face the figure head on, Amarantha stopped her for one last condition.</p>
<p>  “Not so fast,” she clucked. The dark fae did not wait for another signal before ripping the sack off the High Fae’s face.</p>
<p>  The features were distinctly Winter born: pale skin, even paler hair, and a pair of icy blue eyes that pleaded for his life. Kazi watched Alistair and Kallias straighten. Just like every show Amarantha made, it was meant to touch more than just one.</p>
<p>  “That’s better,” the High Queen said. “Proceed, Feyre, dear. Enjoy it.”</p>
<p>  Feyre hesitated again as he began begging. “Please,” he whispered. “Please.”</p>
<p>  Kazi rarely gave them time to beg. If they were going to die, she’d rather them keep their dignity. She’d only held back when Amarantha ordered her to. All until Claire Beddor.</p>
<p>  She could already see Feyre’s fortitude retreating as he continued. Someone in the crowd at Kallias’ back began weeping, making it all the worse.</p>
<p>  “Don’t.” He trembled. But Feyre lifted her dagger. “Don’t!”</p>
<p>  Feyre wrenched her eyes shut and took a gasping breath as she lunged into the movement. Her whole body pushed the dagger into his heart. The ash wood did not immediately kill him, just like Amarantha had intended. He wailed in pain and thrashed against the dark fae behind him as Feyre yanked the dagger back out of his chest cavity. He fell limp, body solidly crashing to the stone at Feyre’s feet.</p>
<p>  She was sobbing now.</p>
<p>  Kazi could see the bodies of her own victims, drowning in a pool of ruby liquid. Hundreds—thousands, if you counted before the mountain.</p>
<p>  The fae who had cried out in the mass began wheezing and howling.</p>
<p>  Feyre let the bloody dagger fall from her hand with a clatter.</p>
<p>  “Very good,” Amarantha commended, not unlike the way she’d done for Kazi. “Now the next. Oh, don’t look so miserable, Feyre. Aren’t you having fun?”</p>
<p>  The hood was off of the next fae’s head before Feyre even had time to grab the next dagger. This female was from the Dawn or the Day Court. Her hair was a rich golden brown, shining even in the dim room. She was shaking her head, silver tracks streaking her face already. Kazi nearly missed Thesan clasp Tsavani’s arm as he looked away.</p>
<p>  Dawn Court, then.</p>
<p>  Feyre grabbed the wooden dagger with a deep breath. She waited again, allowing the girl her last words.</p>
<p>  “Cauldron save me,” she whispered. Her eyes closed as she tilted her head back, accepting her fate. “Mother hold me. Guide me to you. Let me pass through the gates; let me smell that immortal land of milk and honey.”</p>
<p>  Feyre was close to heaving, Kazi could sense it.</p>
<p>  “Let me fear no evil,” the fae breathed, opening her eyes so that she could look at her killer one last time. “Let me feel no pain.”</p>
<p>  With a sob, Feyre raised the dagger slowly. “I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>  “Let me enter eternity.”</p>
<p>  There was a moment where Feyre just wept. The fae looked up at her and nodded her head, urging her to complete her task.</p>
<p>  Many people in the crowd keened as Feyre gripped her shoulder and plunged the dagger into her beating heart. The female went swiftly, slumping to the ground, dagger still protruding from her chest.</p>
<p>  Kazi began to move, feet quietly padding along the marble floors. Closer to the dais, closer to the end. Closer to freedom. The other Divines tracked her carefully, each one watching her back.</p>
<p>   She was bathed in shadows. Not the ones she coveted, not the ones that gave her peace, not the ones she may never see again. But she whispered a lasting goodbye to them, anyway, somehow knowing he would hear her soft proclamation wherever he was.</p>
<p>  "<em>I could not love you in this life like you deserved. I could not worship you in the way I wanted.”</em> The whispers on her tongue like a prayer. <em>“Perhaps the next world will grant us that. Perhaps the next life will let me love you in the way I was meant to love you.”</em></p>
<p>  The words were a sweet poison in her heart.</p>
<p>  She was hidden from sight, only feet from Amarantha and her throne. The cinquedeas were now settled in the palms of her hands.</p>
<p>  She could not see the open floor, could not see the realization dawn on Feyre’s face as she saw Tamlin beneath that final hood. But she could hear it. The rattling gasp.</p>
<p>  “Something wrong?” Amarantha asked, heading cocking the side.</p>
<p>  She was so invested in the human reaper at her feet that she was unaware of death-incarnate at her shoulder. Kazi’s hands shook with sick delight, but she stayed her hand.</p>
<p>  “Not…not fair,” Feyre ground out around the corner.</p>
<p>  “Fair?” Amarantha mused. One stray tilt of her head and Kazi would easily be uncovered. “I wasn’t aware you humans knew of the concept. You kill Tamlin, and he’s free.” At Feyre’s choked sob, Kazi almost unleashed her rage. “And then you can have him all to yourself.</p>
<p>  “Unless,” she went on, “you think it would be more appropriate to forfeit your life. After all: What’s the point? To survive only to lose him?” A guardian’s worst nightmare; to live on while their High Lord did not. “Imagine all those years you were going to spend together…suddenly alone. Tragic, really. Though a few months ago, you hated our kind enough to butcher us—surely you’ll move on easily enough.”</p>
<p>  She patted her dreadful ring.</p>
<p>  “Jurian’s human lover did. So,” Amarantha said. “What will it be, Feyre?”</p>
<p>  Kazi waited for the signal. She waited for Alistair’s whistle. She waited for Feyre to make her move, whatever it may be. She waited and waited, but it felt like an eternity.</p>
<p>  She barely heard it over the drumming of her heart. Barely heard Feyre’s faint murmur.</p>
<p>  “I love you.”</p>
<p>  Kazi could sense the flood of shock fill the room.</p>
<p>  There was no signal. There wouldn’t be until Amarantha made her verdict: turn back on her word or follow through. Still, Kazi waited.</p>
<p>  “She won,” a faerie in the crowd shouted. “Free them.”</p>
<p>  But that had never been Amarantha’s plan. Kazi, so close to the female, could smell her shock, her anger, her…fear. Barely there and gone in an instant. Kazi would endure a year with a rotting wyrm to smell it again.</p>
<p>  “I’ll free them whenever I see fit,” Amarantha crowed, brushing her dress down to appear unruffled. “Feyre didn’t specify when I had to free them—just that I had to. At some point. Perhaps when you’re dead.” She grinned a serpent’s smile. “You assumed that when I said instantaneous freedom regarding the riddle, it applied to the trials, too, didn’t you? Foolish, stupid human.”</p>
<p>  Kazi waited, she waited for the signal. It had to come. It had to come now or else she’d lose the prime opportunity. But it did not come. Amarantha stood from her throne and stepped away from where she was tucked away. She would now need to alter her attack, alter everything.</p>
<p>
  <em>  Cauldron damn you, Alistair!</em>
</p>
<p>  Kazi watched the Deceiver step beyond the view from her alcove. She thumped her hand against the wall behind her in anger. She could not risk moving back out of the shadows, not if the plan was to still attack Amarantha from behind.</p>
<p>  Just out of sight, Kazi had to trust that Serana would keep her word about protecting Feyre to the best of her abilities. She had to trust Alistair and Tsavani took on the Attor. She had to trust that Nazir and Linden got the High Lords out of harm’s way. She had to trust that Anahera would join her in killing Amarantha. She had to trust like she’d never done before even as her head screamed at her to <em>move</em>.</p>
<p>  But she heard her hiss at Feyre, “And you. <em>You</em>. I’m going to <em>kill</em> you.”</p>
<p>  Kazi’s ears picked up on Rhysand’s shout as a blast echoed around the room.</p>
<p>
  <em>  Please, let her be alive. Let her live just a few seconds longer.</em>
</p>
<p>  “I’m going to make you pay for your insolence,” Amarantha snarled. And Feyre screamed bloody murder. Kazi’s heart pounded, cinquedeas begging for release. “Admit you don’t really love him, and I’ll spare you. Admit what a cowardly, lying, inconstant bit of human garbage you are.”</p>
<p>  She did not say anything. But Feyre shrieked again and Kazi felt a pain erupt in her veins. A real physical pain. Rhysand.</p>
<p>  She did not wait for any signal. Did not wait for any damned whistle. Her High Lord was in danger and she was not going to wait any longer.</p>
<p>  Kazi launched out of her hiding place, cinquedeas flashing against the chandelier candlelight. But she was not alone. Rhysand, the High Lord she’d set out to protect, not crippled over in pain, was also racing for Amarantha from the front. He was growling, two of the wooden daggers clutched in either hand.</p>
<p>  They could do it, together. Just as they’d planned 49 years ago. Just as they’d failed to do before. But they could now, they could end it.</p>
<p>  They were both only an arm’s length away when Amarantha raised a pale hand and a wall of light blasted them both across the room. Kazi hit the back wall and crumpled to the ground while Rhysand flew further from her protection, a rib breaking at his impact. She winced as she felt the phantom pain travel through their bond. She also snarled as her cinquedeas had both been projected across the room. Weaponless. <em>But not helpless.</em></p>
<p>  Amarantha spun to face him and Kazi rose to her feet, ready to intercept anything that went his way. “You traitorous piece of filth,” she seethed. “You’re just as bad as these human beasts. You were planning this all along.”</p>
<p>  Just as she threw a hand out to attack him, Kazi was on her. The High Queen shrieked as Kazi ripped at her hair and tackled her down to the ground. They slammed into the stone with a reverberating thud.</p>
<p>  And finally, finally the whistle came.</p>
<p>  And all hell broke loose.</p>
<p>  While she’d been waiting for the signal in the alcove, Alistair and Tsavani had been making their way slowly to the Attor, quietly and efficiently restraining him. Nazir and Linden had rounded up the uninvolved High Lords and gathered them in a corner of the room. Serana was at Feyre’s side, hands aglow with an expert healer’s ability. And Anahera was bounding up the dais, a spear gripped in her hand, death in every step.</p>
<p>  Amarantha thrashed, an elbow going straight up into Kazi’s nose, sending her sprawling to the side with a steady stream of blood flowing down her chin. She rolled into a kneeled position, ready to subdue the female once more. But the Deceiver had already taken her moment of time to act, and she chose vengeance. With one flick of her hand, Kazi could feel a crack down her spine, like a shot of lightning. She curled around her stomach, feeling as if her body was burning from the inside out.</p>
<p>  Rhysand, Rhysand, Rhysand—</p>
<p>  “Feyre!” he bellowed and Kazi choked on a pained gasp. She hacked on a cough, throat burning as she shuddered against the ground. A pain worse than death. A severing pain. A pain not from her High Lord, but from Feyre.</p>
<p>  From the blackening edges of her vision, she saw Anahera’s spear plunge into Amarantha’s neck. It had always been her kill. Ever since Kazi had been forced to kill Nostrus and Brutius, it had been Anahera’s right. But she’d chosen a damaging blow, not a killing blow. Amarantha was gurgling on her own blood, throat torn into.</p>
<p>  As Kazi tried and failed to get to her feet, she heard Tamlin’s roar. A sound that shook the mountain around them. He launched himself at her, dragging her off the ground so that he could smash her into the back wall. He was transformed into his beast form, shedding golden light. He had her by the neck, blood steadily gushing down his paws as she fought for a breath of life.</p>
<p>  Kazi did not want to tear her eyes from the carnage, she wanted to see the light leave the female’s eyes. But she had a High Lord to protect, a High Lord to look after. And Feyre was—</p>
<p>  Anahera was helping her onto her feet, eyes looking over her for wounds. But she was untouched other than her shattered nose. And that made the pain so much worse. She shook off the Guardian of the Summer Court’s hand and stumbled her way over to Rhysand. He was in similar shape, cradling the rib he’d broken but hunched in a way that told her he’d felt his spine shatter as well.</p>
<p>  She pulled him away from the wall he’d been leaning on, moving his arm so it laid across her shoulders. She looked up at him to find he was staring out at the crowd. His eyes were pleading, but not with her. They were pleading with the Mother, with the Cauldron, with the old and long forgotten gods.</p>
<p>  He held out his palm and slowly, a kernel of glowing light formed in his palm. Kazi did not wait for an order, she’d waited enough that day. She helped him stumble over to Feyre’s prone form, cradled in Tamlin’s arms as he sobbed over her. Kazi could feel her own eyes brimming.</p>
<p>  One by one, all the High Lords began lending their own kernels of power, none refusing the gift.</p>
<p>  Rhysand was last. He stood as straight as he could and leaned down to let the kernel go. It slowly floated down to Feyre’s broken chest. “For what she gave,” he said, “we’ll bestow what our predecessors have granted to few before.” He paused. “This makes us even.”</p>
<p>  And then he was stepping back to Kazi’s side. She had an arm ready to steady him, but he shook his head. The pain was vanishing, dulling as Feyre began to glow.</p>
<p>  “I love you,” Tamlin uttered.</p>
<p>  There was a faint shine around Feyre’s body as the changes took effect. Her body slowly lengthened out, her ears sharpened into points, her skin lost all blemishes bestowed on her throughout her life and the last three months. Finally, her lips parted for an intake of breath and her eyes shuttered open. Even the color of her eyes was more vibrant, and they seemed to sparkle like stars.</p>
<p>  Dead. Feyre had died, and it had been a pain like nothing Kazi had ever felt. And now she was alive and it felt like a world reborn.</p>
<p>  The girl—female groaned softly, and the sound almost sent Kazi to her knees with relief.</p>
<p>  Rhysand touched her arm and inclined his head away from the reunion. She nodded and tore her eyes from the heartfelt scene. She followed him to the middle of the room, finding it littered with obliterated dark fae and some High Fae who had retaliated. She turned her eyes to the dais only to suppress a bloody smile.</p>
<p>  Amarantha, throat torn completely from her body, was pinned to the wall, a sword clean through her forehead. A death well-deserved.</p>
<p>  A death long overdue.</p>
<p>  Kazi breathed deeply, coughing briefly on the blood still flowing down into her mouth, head leaning on Rhysand’s shoulder, uncaring of who could see them. They simply stared at the female who had ruined them in ways they’d never truly recover. Simply stood and basked in the feeling of freedom that they’d been robbed of.</p>
<p>  He let her head rest there for a few moments before turning to look down at her. He held out a hand, bloody and wracked with tremors, but solid. She slid her own hand into his and clutched it tightly.</p>
<p>  “Let’s go home,” he said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As you can see, I'll be adding as much original content to chapters that will be plot heavy. And I know there was a lot of changes to what the actual books were like, but this is fanfiction sooo. The guardians were not about to let the opportunity slip by them. ALso, Kazi can feel something with Feyre, isn't that fun? I hope you're ready for the reunion with the Inner Circle!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. A Love Beyond Death</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>  —<strong><em>MORE </em></strong>than anything, Kazi just wanted to leave. She wanted to turn her back on this once-sacred mountain and never return, not even to burn it to the ground. She wanted to take her High Lord and drag him far from this prison that had held them captive for too long. She just wanted him safe again.</p>
<p>  And there was a pounding in her head, an ache in her ribs, and a roar in her veins. All telling her she was needed elsewhere.</p>
<p>  But the wards weren’t yet down and there were dark faeries to deal with.</p>
<p>  Helion was grinning through his sweat as he dropped another ward from the mountain. He’d amassed a crowd, fae young and old, male and female alike, were unapologetically admiring the High Lord of the Day Court. The room was drowned in pheromones and Kazi refrained from gagging. Heading the admirers stood Serana, smiling ear to ear as she chewed on her bottom lip.</p>
<p>  Kazi scoffed and rolled her eyes. She shouldered her way through the group, trying to make her way to the fanatical female. One solid shove from someone’s elbow made her hiss under her breath.</p>
<p>  “You look like you might jump him any second,” she said as she finally made it to her fellow guardian’s side.</p>
<p>  Serana didn’t even blink. “I have a little more self-control than that.” She finally tore her eyes away from the alluring male to look at all those who had joined her. “Everyone’s emotions are just running high after that liberation.” She grinned with delight. “Something tells me there’ll be a boom in little faelings a year from now.”</p>
<p>  Kazi winced and Serana stiffened.</p>
<p>  “I’m sorry. Maybe not as much self-control as I thought.”</p>
<p>  “Don’t apologize. It’s been two centuries, I just need to get a grip,” she muttered.</p>
<p>  Serana shook her head. “There are some things you can’t just ‘get a grip’ on. Kazi, females die from <em>heartbreak</em> after losing their children. You almost <em>did</em> die. There’s nothing you—”</p>
<p>  “Serana,” Kazi cut her off sharply, “I don’t want to talk about this.”</p>
<p>  Not when this was supposed to be a night of celebration.</p>
<p>  “Okay,” she relented mercifully. “Where is Rhysand?”</p>
<p>  “He’s taking care of the naga. When the fighting started, many fled the throne room and some weren’t even in there to begin with. He’s helping to track them down,” she answered. A loud cheer went up as Helion released a beam of light. Another ward down.</p>
<p>  “Why aren’t you out there helping him?” Serana asked, though thoroughly distracted by Helion’s glistening skin.</p>
<p>  “I had some belongings to recover,” Kazi admitted and extended her hand to show the female her two violet siphons. She had also scoured the throne room for her missing cinquedeas. “And I had someone to thank.”</p>
<p>  “I don’t need your thanks; I said I would try and protect the girl to the best of my abilities. Even so, I didn’t exactly succeed, did I?” Serana grumbled. “We should have had Tsavani with her.”</p>
<p>  “Tsavani…I don’t even think she would have been able to stop the blow Amarantha delivered. It was a raw surge of power in a last ditch effort to wreak havoc.” She paused. “Besides, I…I don’t trust her as much as I do you.”</p>
<p>  The Guardian of the Day Court took a deep breath. “Don’t get sentimental on me, now. Heightened emotions, remember?” She swiped at her face even as no tears fell. “I trust you, too, you know that, right?”</p>
<p>  Kazi nodded, but there was a part of her that wanted to say she did not deserve it. Murderers did no</p>
<p>  The room erupted in screams and Kazi immediately reach for the blades at her thighs. But she faltered as she saw the smiles and hugs of the fae around her. Cries of happiness and hope, not terror and anguish. The final ward was down and the mountain was no longer their prison.</p>
<p>  Serana gave a toothy grin then turned to Kazi once more. “Don’t be a stranger,” she said before racing over to jump in Helion’s awaiting arms. He twirled her around and they laughed themselves breathless as faeries thanked and praised him. It was pure joy and elation.</p>
<p>  Kazi stared longingly at the flood leaving through the nearest exit. The few who lived in the nearby courts would leave tonight as the short trek in the dark was worth the freedom of their own home. The fae who lived in the further courts would leave at first light the next morning.</p>
<p>  <em>Terrace on the way to my rooms.</em></p>
<p>  With a sigh, Kazi turned away from enticing freedom to venture to Rhysand’s chambers. They would leave tonight, she knew. They could winnow home within seconds with their powers returned. But they would have to come back the next morning to arrange the journey back for the Court of Nightmares. Kazi wondered if they couldn’t just leave them to their own devices.</p>
<p>  <em>Y</em><em>ou won’t have to come, </em>his voice whispered in her ear.</p>
<p>  She wouldn’t let him come back alone, not even for a mission as simple as this. The mountain was an enemy of its own. Facing it was its own threat.</p>
<p>  “You think so very loudly,” Nazir chided quietly as he fell in step with her.</p>
<p>  “What was I thinking about then?” she asked, humoring him. Her striding did not falter as they started up a stone staircase.</p>
<p>  “That you want to get the hell out of here.”</p>
<p>  She almost smiled. “That’s what everyone is thinking.”</p>
<p>  “Ah, yes, you’re right,” he conceded with a raspy chuckle. “However, I stand by my assessment. For a seasoned warrior who grew up with a Daemati and spy, you certainly have trouble keeping your face plain. Not that your face is plain in any way, dearest."</p>
<p>  The flirtation was purely surface level, meant only to soothe her nerves. Nazir had never shown an interest in any fae, physically or on a deeper level. He bedded one female centuries ago only to keep his Divine line of succession. To everyone’s surprise and his satisfaction, he sired a son 9 months later, Isran.</p>
<p>  If Nazir had passed Under the Mountain, Isran would have taken on the Divine blessing of the Mother back in the Autumn Court just like Kazi had taken it on when her father passed in the Spring Court.</p>
<p>  “Perhaps it is on purpose,” she debated. “Show one thing, think another.”</p>
<p>  Nazir, from beneath his darkened hood, looked at her for a brief moment. Reaching some sort of conclusion, he said, “Perhaps.”</p>
<p>  They walked in silent contemplation of the other. Kazi always wondered how a friendship had formulated between them when so much should have pitted them against each other. But then she remembered the way he’d kept Mor alive long enough for them to find her after she’d been left for dead in the Autumn Court. It was a debt she was working to repay, but he never seemed to want anything from her, only company.</p>
<p>  “Give her a warm hello for me,” he said then and took a sharp turn down an adjacent corridor.</p>
<p>  She looked at his retreating back, knowing who he was talking about and why he’d said it. Perhaps he <em>could</em> see every thought on her not-so-plain face.</p>
<p>  Just as she was about to make the final cut around a corner, she swerved away from an incoming body. Heavy footed, but light weight. A human in a fae body.</p>
<p>  “Sorry,” Feyre stammered at their almost collision, wrapping the edges of her light pink robe tighter around her nightgown. Her shoulders were lightly hunched, as if she might return to her human height if she tried hard enough. Kazi wanted to tell her to fix her posture, lest she risk back problems in the future, but that was not her job.</p>
<p>  Kazi looked over the female’s shoulder, knowing her High Lord was just beyond. Curious. “No harm done.”</p>
<p>  Feyre finally looked up from the ground and her face fell slack. It did not surprise the guardian in the slightest. She had done wrong by Feyre by killing Claire Beddor. She had done wrong by Feyre by killing hundreds of humans. She had done wrong by Feyre by simply following orders.</p>
<p>  “I was just taking a walk,” the newly made fae said. “Getting used to this body.”</p>
<p>  Kazi did not need enhanced hearing to know it was a lie.</p>
<p>  “Of course. You’ll get the hang of it,” she assured her. “Try to walk more on your toes…and stop slouching.”</p>
<p>  Feyre’s eyes rounded but she ultimately nodded, taking it into consideration. She bit her bottom lip and winced as her sharpened canines pierced the soft skin. “Well, I should get back to bed.”</p>
<p>  “Indeed. Long day ahead of you.” Kazi stepped aside so that she could pass by. There was something urging her to make the girl stay, something at her back telling her to keep running the conversation. “I look forward to your visits each month.”</p>
<p>  It was the wrong thing to say, but it was out before she could think better of it. Feyre clenched the fist with the bargaining tattoo and scampered off, barefoot and—Kazi noted with not a small amount of amusement that she tried to put most of her weight on the balls of her feet.</p>
<p>  Kazi waited and watched as the girl disappeared around a corner at the end of the corridor, feeling a burn along her spine as she walked further from her gaze. She shook her head before moving to the terrace, built on the side of the mountain overlooking the north. The platform was empty, but she could feel him, silently waiting for her.</p>
<p>  She stepped out onto the balcony and leaned into the railing so that she could feel the touch of starlight on her skin like millions of kisses. “She’s gone.” The words drifted out on the slight breeze, dispersing into the midnight air. A secret between them.</p>
<p>  The darkness coalesced at her side, revealing Rhysand’s taller figure. He absentmindedly brushed a fleck of dust off his shirt, appearing for the sleeping world a collected male. Kazi did not comment on the slight twitch of darkness swirling at his feet, a clear sign of his agitation.</p>
<p>  “I’ve let Mor know of our arrival,” he reported. “She’ll be the only one at the House of Wind, bar Nuala and Cerridwen. I’ve sent them back already.”</p>
<p>  Kazi nodded, knowing they needed to reintroduce themselves slowly. Her heart sung a different melody, but her head overruled. They’d left on uncertain terms, taking off as they had. Risking themselves like they had. Sacrificing themselves like they had. There were bound to be repercussions in the Inner Circle.</p>
<p>  “You’re well enough to winnow?” he asked her.</p>
<p>  She side-eyed him. “I’ve just had all my powers returned to me. I’ll be fine. I’ll send up a flare or something if I end up in the Steppes.”</p>
<p>  He nodded once before disappearing in a burst of black smoke. She followed quickly after, the darkness converging around her until she was in the in-between. One clear thought of home sent her reeling down a swirling tunnel.</p>
<p>  She emerged on the other side, stumbling only once as she landed. At her back, the fairy lights flickered against the misty air. Slowly, her eyes traced the thousands of steps up to the House of Wind, debating on whether the climb was worth it. She’d made it almost every time she visited, unwilling to let someone carry her up the red mountain.</p>
<p>  From beside her, Rhysand’s wings radiated a relieving warmth. “It’s only a short trip.”</p>
<p>  “You spent up your carrying privileges a month ago,” she replied, thinking of when he carried her away from the Middengard Wyrm’s resting place. “Try again in another century.”</p>
<p>  “Suit yourself,” he huffed, his dark and membranous wings now fully extended. “I’ll see you at the top.”</p>
<p>  Then with one powerful jump and flap, he was gone.</p>
<p>  And she tackled the stairs.</p>
<p>  She counted them this time, each step coming with the memory of one she’d killed. The first step was for Claire Beddor. The next, Nostrus. Then Brutius. Then the 52 Children of the Blessed. Then all the lesser fae she’d been tasked to kill within that time and before. Then the fae in Hybern’s army during the war.</p>
<p>  There were around 3,000 steps between her and the top once she’d finished. 7,000 behind her.</p>
<p>  Next, each step came with a name she’d been called or that she’d called herself.</p>
<p>  <em>Murderer.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>  Savage.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  Nightmare.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  Executioner.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  Death-incarnate.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  Butcher.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  Heartless.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  Merciless.</em>
</p>
<p>  She was only 1,000 steps closer.</p>
<p>  She raced the rest of the way up, ignoring the ache in her chest, the sweat on her brow, and the fatigue in her bones. As her head lifted to count the remaining journey, she paused.</p>
<p>  Morrigan was waiting at the top, golden arms crossed over her chest. She was a vision in emerald green, the gown fitted to show her assets. She was a goddess atop her conquered mountain. A wrathful goddess with a vengeance.</p>
<p>  Her hair was pinned up and away from her face, just enough for Kazi to see the red rimming her eyes. But she was not crying. Her tears had been spilled for Rhysand and now all that remained was a vicious scorning.</p>
<p>  “You stubborn bitch,” Mor mumbled against the wind, shaking hands fumbling with the fabric of her dress. She lifted the hem up to her ankles and began descending the stairs in a hurry.</p>
<p>  Kazi only sped up, legs on fire.</p>
<p>  The two clashed like waves on a violent and stormy sea. Kazi made sure to catch herself on the ebony railing before they both went tumbling off the side of the mountain, wasting all her progress. There was a single sniffle before the rumble.</p>
<p>  “We were so fucking worried. How could you let him pull this kind of shit? How could <em>you</em> pull this crap on us?” she harshly whispered in Kazi’s ear as they held each other. “Damn it, Kazimyrah, what if something had happened that night? We wouldn’t have even known!”</p>
<p>  The guardian did not deign to answer, knowing there was no excuse she could give that would soothe the hurricane that was Mor’s anger. She only held her, hands entangled in the female’s hair and hoped it was enough for now.</p>
<p>  “Rhysand showed me the worst of it. I didn’t like it and I definitely think it could have been handled differently, but…I understand.” They eventually pulled away, the blonde’s face red and splotchy, but still somehow perfect. “But damn you for leaving me to the wolves. They were insufferable.”</p>
<p>  Despite it all, the two chuckled.</p>
<p>  “Come on, Rhys is about to call the rest.” Mor put a hand around Kazi’s waist as she stiffened. “It’ll be okay. No matter what they say, they love you guys. It just…it hurt, still hurts.”</p>
<p>  “I’m sorry,” Kazi whispered.</p>
<p>  “That next morning, when neither of you had returned, we all knew something had happened. And then Rhysand sent that damn message about remaining hidden in Velaris and to not try and contact you.” She took a deep breath as they made it to the top. They stood there, overlooking the sparkling city and the Sidra. “49 years, Kazi. 49 years of not knowing what was happening down there.</p>
<p>  “And then we received word that Tarquin was the new High Lord of the Summer Court—” She stopped abruptly as Kazi visibly flinched. She reached out a hand and let it rest on Kazi’s arm. “We’ve just been…so worried.”</p>
<p>  “I know.”</p>
<p>  Mor let the silence hang.</p>
<p>  “Oh, good, you didn’t keel over and fall off the mountain,” Rhysand said as he walked out to the lanterned balcony. “You know, I’m thinking of commissioning a pulley system. Saves me from wondering when I’ll find you passed out halfway down again.”</p>
<p>  Mor let a smirk slip forth and Kazi rolled her eyes. She would endure teasing if it meant cheering the female up.</p>
<p>  “And now I know not to drink wine on the nights we stay at the House of Wind.”</p>
<p>  She didn’t mention that it would no longer be an issue considering she’d scorned wine forevermore.</p>
<p>  Kazi brushed by him and stepped inside the dimly lit dining room. She hadn’t known what a difference it would make to be really and truly home. It was a weight off her shoulders and a fulfilling piece in her heart.</p>
<p>  “Are they on their way?” Mor asked, following her in as she addressed Rhysand.</p>
<p>  Kazi looked over her shoulder to see him nod his head. There was a tug at her ribs, like an insistent pull to make sure she was there at the other end of the tether. She imagined herself yanking it in return, heart hammering as it continued to strengthen as he neared.</p>
<p>  “I’ll get the liquor,” Mor muttered.</p>
<p>  “Please.” Rhysand pinched the bridge of his nose, already anticipating the whirlwind to come. Mor headed down to the hall to the cellar.</p>
<p>  “Would it have been better to do this one at a time?” Kazi wonder aloud. She stood stiffly at the far wall, prepared for when the string at her chest pulled completely taut.</p>
<p>  “And choose who got to go first? That would only create more problems,” he sighed. “I’d rather get this over with.”</p>
<p>  “Something tells me it won’t be ‘over with’ for a while, Rhys,” she pointed out. “They’re just as stubborn as you are. They’re <em>your</em> brothers.”</p>
<p>  “That’s exactly how I know they’ll get over it.”</p>
<p>  “I brought the strong stuff,” Mor said as she emerged from the cellar. She was inspecting the bottles of liquor with consideration. “The Double Oak Whiskey or the Autumn Cognac?”</p>
<p>  “The whiskey,” Rhysand said. He waved a hand and five crystal glasses clinked on the table.</p>
<p>  Kazi didn’t reach for one. She would remain clear-headed for this. She would remember every moment.</p>
<p>  The cousins indulged themselves nicely, however. Rhysand had one glass down, already pouring his second. She hoped he kept sober enough to at least remain responsive. The last thing she need was the High Lord without his wits in a serious conversation.</p>
<p>  The house shuddered and Kazi felt the line jerk unpleasantly. She clasped her hand against the bookshelf at her back, stopping herself from gravitating toward the threshold. It was a fight against instinct, against her heart. It pounded against her lungs, begging her to let it take over her reason and logic. It wanted her to drop to her knees and beg the encroaching shadows for forgiveness.</p>
<p>  But she’d spent long enough on her knees.</p>
<p>  The room darkened, the light ceding to the shadows as the two pairs of boots traversed the length of the balcony. They were unhurried. Unfortunately for Kazi, her heart was the opposite.</p>
<p>  “Ah, whiskey,” came a voice like charged thunder. “I see we’re breaking into the special reserves.”</p>
<p>  The two imposing figures crossed the threshold, each presence tugging at her heartstrings in different ways.</p>
<p>  Kazi fixed her gaze on <em>his</em> face, wondering how she could have possibly forgotten the way his jaw feathered when he was trying to stay calm. Or the shallow downturn of his mouth when faced with something displeasing. It was both a comfort and a pain to see them appear as his hazel eyes landed on hers.</p>
<p>  He was simultaneously terrifying and beautiful, covered in leather and his eyes ablaze, brighter than the candles around the room. He was easily the same height as Rhysand but his unfurled wings made him take up more space. He was lean, corded muscle down his covered arms in a way she craved. His fingers curled into his palms, another sign of his restraint. His stare was unrelenting on hers.</p>
<p>  “I’d almost expected it to be gone,” Rhysand conversed pleasantly, though his body was poised for a lash back any moment.</p>
<p>  “Have a little more faith in us, Rhys.” The statement was both a tease and a sickeningly cruel punch to the stomach. Cassian was always good with double-edged swords.</p>
<p>  Kazi pulled her eyes from Azriel, almost wishing he would say something—anything—so that she would have an excuse to continue looking. She could feel his eyes continue to sit on her face. A comfort. A pain. An utter agony. To have him so close yet so far.</p>
<p>  “I have complete faith in you. My Inner Circle is constructed around my trust in you,” their High Lord said. Finally, he stopped beating around the bush. “It is my faith in you that allowed me to leave Velaris in your hands while I was away.”</p>
<p>  “While you were away?” Azriel repeated darkly. He did not continue, but it gave Kazi enough of an excuse to find his eyes again. He was no longer staring at her, but at the ground at Rhysand’s feet.</p>
<p>  “You make it sound like some Summer vacation,” Cassian scoffed.</p>
<p>  “I promise you it was anything but,” Rhysand growled. “I also promise you that it was necessary. We had too much to lose and Amarantha had everything to gain. I would pull you into any fight, I would have you by my side in everything…but not this. This was not something I would wish on anyone.”</p>
<p>  “You took Kazi just fine,” Azriel spoke again, this time with his fiery eyes on the High Lord.</p>
<p>  “I would have stopped at nothing to get in there if he had gone in by himself,” she interjected. “Even if it had killed me. Staying away from him would have been its own torture.”</p>
<p>  Azriel blinked, shadows darkening at the mention of her death. She felt a ribbon loop around her wrist, trying to pull her hand off the bookshelf. She resisted and the muscle in his jaw clenched again.</p>
<p>  “Kazi was the exception. Risking any more of you in there would have killed me,” Rhysand said next. “I won’t say I’m sorry because I am not. I would do it again to keep you and Velaris safe from that bitch’s wrath.”</p>
<p>  “Gods above, we don’t want you to say sorry!” Cassian threw his arms out. “We just want you to understand what it was like to have you up and disappear with no word for five decades. We swore to protect you, just like Kazi did. Don’t you think we deserved to know what was happening down there? If you were hurt or just plain dead? None of us would have even realized until it was too late, and then what? There’s no heir, there’s no one to take your place. Keir would have taken over and then what would Velaris be then?”</p>
<p>  Kazi clenched the bookshelf enough to hear a splinter in the wood.</p>
<p>  “It was a calculated risk—” Cassian scoffed and muttered something indecipherable under his breath. “I whored down there, Kazi killed down there; all too keep that from happening. If I thought that there was any other way to keep Amarantha away from the city without succumbing to her every whim, I would have done it. There is nothing I wouldn’t do, Cassian, nothing I wouldn’t give or sacrifice, to protect my court.”</p>
<p>  The mention of what he’d done, of what they’d done was not missed. Mor blinked away another series of silver tears as Cassian and Azriel stiffened. They did not ask for anything more, not yet.</p>
<p>  “We know that,” Mor said quietly. “We really do. We just wish it didn’t have to play out that way. We’d rather all perish with you than see you sacrifice yourself again. All this,” she waved around the room as a general gesture to the City of Starlight, “means nothing without you, Rhys.”</p>
<p>  He had no answer to that, nor did it really warrant one.</p>
<p>  “Well,” Cassian breathed deeply, looking around the room as if he might conjure up another argument, “I’ve waited 49 years for this whiskey, I’m not going to let you drink it all.”</p>
<p>  He kicked a chair out from the table and settled himself down into it comfortably, wings finally relaxing. The conversation was tabled, Kazi knew that, but she couldn’t help but smile at the male’s familiar mannerisms.</p>
<p>  Azriel did not sit down among the three at the table, did not attempt to break bread with them before he unleashed his own frustrations—all of them, Kazi knew, stemming from herself.</p>
<p>  As he turned away from the dining room to walk back out onto the balcony, she followed slowly. She took a side route and brushed by Rhysand, a hand touching his back swiftly to offer him comfort; he returned it with the phantom hand to the junction of her shoulder. A silent support for whatever came next.</p>
<p>  Azriel was no longer on the balcony as she stepped out into the crisp night air. Taking a guess, she followed the perimeter of the house to take the stairs to the roof. Each one sent a tremble down the tether at her ribs.</p>
<p>  He stood in the middle of the training pad, eyes closed as he let the whispers of the shadows announce her arrival.</p>
<p>  She stepped closer, closer to him than she had been in five decades.</p>
<p>  Every detail of him that she’d seen before was thrown into painful clarity up close—every harsh line looking like a crack on his tanned skin, every dark shade like a fresh bruise. He looked ill. But she knew all too well what he looked like in real sickness, and this was not that. All those dark circles and harsh lines were a sign of something much deeper.</p>
<p>  Far more difficult to heal.</p>
<p>  "That night,” he uttered through the darkness. Her ears twitched as he spoke just for her. Just for her and the night. “That night, you shut me out. When that wall went up, it took everything not to storm the mountain.”</p>
<p>  She thanked the Mother that he had enough control not to come after her.</p>
<p>  “And for years, I could not feel you. Even now,” he scoffed, “I cannot feel you.” She stared at that reinforced mountain of adamant in her mind, knowing without a doubt that it would not come down with sheer force of will. Every day she spent Under the Mountain, another layer was added. “But then you finally let me in just enough when Nuala gave you the message. It was a drink of water in an endless desert.”</p>
<p>  Kazi stared at wisps of hair that brushed against his forehead and cheeks, longer than she last remembered. He had yet to open his eyes, wanting to get his darkened thoughts off his chest before letting her see him truly broken.</p>
<p>  “And I foolishly let myself hope.” He took a breath and delivered the words she’d whispered to the dormant shadows in the throne room. “<em>’Perhaps the next life will let me love you in the way I was meant to love you.’</em>”</p>
<p>  A cold breeze wafted over them and she resisted the urge to try and find his scent in the wave.</p>
<p>  “It was a goodbye, wasn’t it?” he asked her. She did not say anything. “Even as you walked to your death, you still kept me from you. You still forced me away.”</p>
<p>  She could feel the anger, the hurt, the suffering in his voice. This was a conversation long overdue, centuries coming.</p>
<p>  “When will I get to have you in the way you have me?”</p>
<p>  Kazi opened her mouth, but he was holding up a hand, his eyes flashing open.</p>
<p>  “And don’t tell me in the next life, in the next world. I want to have you in this one, this life. I want you to be completely mine because I am wholly and utterly yours.” He ventured a step closer. “Kazi, this world could be it for us, and I don’t want to waste it. So, don’t tell me you’ll wait for me in the next world when I have been waiting for you in this one.”</p>
<p>  “Azriel, my oath—”</p>
<p>  “You can love me even with the oath to Rhysand. He can come first in every other way, I just want to come first in your heart.” The shadows reached for her, tugging at her wrist once more. This time, she did not resist. The shifting tendrils led her hand into his own. He pulled her the rest of the way to his chest until his forehead rested on hers. “I have laid myself bare to you too many times and all I have gotten were small parts of you. Do not torture me any longer. It’s a cruel thing to do, even to someone like me.”</p>
<p>  And like a dam breaking in a storm, like a fissure in her mind, she promised to allow him entrance to the darkest part of her when she found the strength to do so.</p>
<p>  “I’m done torturing.”</p>
<p>  And for a tiny moment, the invisible space between them seemed to narrow.</p>
<p>         </p>
<p>           </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You didn't think it would be a completely sappy reunion did you? There is some crazy baggage behind these two. If you somehow missed it, most of their issues come from Kazi always putting Rhysand first because of her oath. And of course, Azriel understands, Rhysand probably comes first in his mind as well, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want love.</p>
<p>Anyway, I hope you didn't miss that other huge thing that was mentioned earlier in the chapter. It's pretty important to the Kazriel relationship as well. </p>
<p>I had no idea what to do for the Inner Circle reunion since SJM has painfully kept it from us, but I tried.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. The Space Between Us</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>  —<strong><em>THE</em></strong> space between them—the space that had always existed between them, even when they would tangle in the sheets in fits of passion—felt shorter than ever. But where they stood across from each other, on opposite sides of this imaginary canyon, an endless pit dared them to take that first step off the edge to close the remaining gap.</p>
<p>  Even as they laid facing each other in their shared bed, the yawning abyss kept them from truly bridging the few inches of blanket to touch the other.</p>
<p>  Kazi was painfully reminded of the first time they shared a bed, not as lovers, not even as mates. Just fellow warriors in need of warm sleep in the Illyrian Steppes. They’d held each other then, she thought, as friends-in-arms and nothing more.</p>
<p>  Though, she recalled, he’d made it clear that he would rather hold than be held.</p>
<p>
  <em>  It was the dead of Winter and war was on the rise.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  The Illyrian camps needed to be rallied and organized for when Hybern decided to charge his army across the sea to eradicate the mortal population of Prythian. But a snowstorm had swept in while they weren’t looking and almost completely obliterated the isolated camp they were currently recruiting. They had been working all day and a substantial portion of the night doing damage control to keep the warriors and their families alive through the next few weeks. Unfortunately, that meant everyone who was able had spent all their energy trying to rebuild and Cassian—the stubborn bastard—had gotten frostbite in his left wing, granting him a cot in the local healer’s tent for the night. They were stranded in the storm and as such, they didn’t have the luxury of proper housing or bedding.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  Kazi was perfectly still upon the small bed, thinking about how terrible it would be for her to just endure frostbitten fingers and sleep in a separate cot or to expend the last dregs of her power to winnow home or conjure a fire. As it was, she was gaining nothing from this, and she knew he wasn’t either, so why add the extra uncomfortable tension to the tent by continuing to lay there?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  She was hyper aware and utterly focused upon the stillness that hung heavy in the blistering air. Azriel must have been feeling it too, for he shifted very little, one of his wings hanging off the edge and scraping the ground.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  “Just because Rhysand suggested this,” she said into the silent darkness, “does not mean we have to do it.” She was also willing to bet the High Lord had said it jokingly; he had been conspiring for a while to introduce them to each other in a more intimate way.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  She rolled onto her side, taking careful note of how he hadn’t traded out his leathers for night clothes. Neither had she, in fact, troubled by the idea of wearing something other than what he always saw her in. He knew her simply as Rhysand’s protector, his brother’s defender. And ultimately, that was something that connected them. That was the only thing that needed to connect them…ever.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  His hazel-fire eyes continued to stare upwards, burning figurative holes into the flimsy tent and ignoring her as much as he could. Almost like, were he to address her words, the barrier he had built up over his near three decades of life would crumble into useless nothingness. She could understand that much, at least.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  But she couldn’t help but also take careful note of how he was elegantly beautiful in the dim atmosphere. He wasn’t ruggedly handsome like Cassian was, not as boisterously flirtatious as the other male either. And he wasn’t regally proportioned like Rhysand. He was beautiful, and she desperately wished he wasn’t. Her young 20-year-old mind was not prepped for thoughts like that on a night like this.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  “It was a good idea.” His voice was refined as well, deep but not raspy in the way it sometimes was when he was yelling on the training field.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  “I think the idea encompassed closer proximity,” she ventured, though she did not move to emphasize her point. If he decided that this was, in fact, not as good of an idea as he originally assumed, she would be ready to back away, to take her leave and probably never return. “But if that makes you uncomfortable, I am happy to remain here.” Frostbite only lasted so long, and it would only be her fingers or toes.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  At last, Azriel was looking at her, those brazen eyes a mixture of apprehension and deliberation. The very tight, very small smile she was rewarded with for her consideration was doing absolute wonders for her youthful mind. It was not an expression of happiness but it was show enough that he appreciated the choice to reject her offer.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  It was hardly a demanding thing to offer. She had not been coherent enough as a toddler to understand why he was taken in by Rhysand’s mother or why he was so hesitant to incorporate himself into their lives even after Rhys and Cassian stopped their incessant bullying and teasing. And over the years, she’d gathered enough to know it was none of her business, but she saw the way he cringed away from people’s wandering limbs.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  “I don’t like people in my space,” he said then.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  She got ready to move, one foot already slipping out from underneath the furs. But he continued to speak, and she paused to listen.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  “Such close contact with another strips away a feeling of control. I do not know what they will do.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  Kazi thought about it, reminded of a cornered animal. It was always best to wait for them to come to you, to let them choose the approach—if they chose to at all. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  "If I stayed completely still, placing you in control of the situation, would that combat the lack of control?” Again, she was prepared to flee the bed should he decide it wasn’t amenable.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  “Would you keep your hand still?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  Kazi nodded her silent agreement to the request and, after a single glance to her face, Azriel reached out and closed his hand around hers settled between them. His grip was neither tight nor loose, his fingers and thumb neither stroking nor pressing. It was a handhold in the most literal sense of the word. Kazi could feel the rough callouses on the flesh of his palm, covering even thicker ridges of what she could only guess were scars. His hand was warm in comparison to her own despite the frigid air, larger and stronger; her hand remained lax and yielding, non-reactive.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  Slowly inhaling, Kazi kept her eyes on their joined hands, tracing the tanned flesh that covered his bones and tendons before they dipped beneath the emptied siphon in his leather bracers. She resisted a shiver as a breeze swept in from underneath the tent’s walls. “Would it be alright if I turned my hand over?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  There was a pause before Azriel hummed, voicing a soft, “Yes.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  He lifted his hand to let her turn hers over. With her knuckles now laid against the bed, her fingers didn’t lie quite flat, not until Azriel rested his own palm against hers, long fingers pressing up against her own and straightening them out. Her hand was so much smaller than his, those of a young female’s. There was no added warmth except for the one developing in her gut.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  He said nothing, letting her assume the arrangement was agreeable. She laid in the cold, unwilling to break this new connection that had been branched, not even to quell the strange stirring in her stomach.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  It was only when her fingers began to involuntarily twitch from the cold that he finally moved again. She forced herself to still to hold up her end of the deal and watched in rapt attention as the wing that hadn’t brushed the ground came up and over them both. It did not touch her, lightly hovering around her body until it rested just behind her back.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  Kazi could no longer see his face, but she could imagine the hazel eyes scrutinizing her every slight movement. She tried not to think about how that probably meant he was looking at her chest because of her breathing.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  "Go to sleep,” he said.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  And finally, she felt warm enough to do so.</em>
</p>
<p>  She wished it were that easy again. Just two souls, not yet tethered to each other, not yet corrupted by war, trying to stave off the cold.</p>
<p>  But this was a cold neither of them could breach with something as simple as touch.</p>
<p>  But Azriel held out his hand, anyway, presenting her with the option to hold it as he once did hers. It laid in the space between them, fingers still and inviting. It was a test, to see if she would walk that single log bridge across the canyon with him, or to at least show him she would try. But it was also an offering for a control she’d been living without for too long. She’d been trapped in an endless loop of <em>obey, obey, obey</em> for years, and he was offering her the chance to finally take control of her own choices. He was giving up this paramount part of himself, this vital control that he always fought to have, so that she could feel unconstrained.</p>
<p>  But her hands were so unclean, so stained with evil, and his hands, his beautiful hands, had already seen too much evil, felt too much darkness. She was afraid to touch them, not for herself but for him.</p>
<p>  His flaming eyes were looking at her, trying to uncover what she was feeling behind her violet eyes. And even barred from her mind, he knew her better than anyone else. “If there is an evil within you, Kazimyrah, then I shall treasure it as I do every other part of you. You could burn me a thousand times, and I would still want you for my own.”</p>
<p>  And so, she rested her hand upon his own, watching as the shadows lightly parted for her. He did not move, instead letting her choose how long and how tightly she held him. The pads of her fingers rested on his own, the heel of her palm in the center of his. Six points of contact, six tingling patches of skin. Six pillars holding her up.</p>
<p>  His wing did not come up to cover her like it did that night, and she was simultaneously grateful and saddened by its exclusion.</p>
<p>  But one step was all she needed for now. And like the trek up the 10,000 stairs of the House of Wind, she would traverse each one with the determination of reaching the top.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>  —<strong><em>KAZI</em></strong> and Rhysand pulled strings to determine who winnowed Keir back to the Night Court at dawn. Mor was automatically out of the question and was instead tasked with bringing the lesser fae back to the Hewn City. The High Lord could have easily ordered the guardian to do it without delegating, but even he wasn’t cruel enough to force the atrocious male’s company upon her.</p>
<p>  Unfortunately, that meant he was susceptible to the tides of fate.</p>
<p>  He rolled the obsidian die he’d conjured and groaned as a single carved-out dot faced the ceiling. Kazi held back a smile as he scooped up the gambling piece and handed her the cube. For dramatics, she blew on her enclosed fist and shook the small cube around before letting it roll onto the table between them.</p>
<p>  Five dots looked up at them, prompting Rhysand to moan further.</p>
<p>  “Just as well,” he finally straightened, brushing his silk shirt down, “I can’t have you killing my Steward.”</p>
<p>  “I only threatened to drown him in the Sidra once,” Kazi defended herself. “Besides, I would never pollute the river with that filth.”</p>
<p>  He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling and she marveled at how just one night away from the mountain had given her back the High Lord she loved. “I can think of three other rivers on the way to the Night Court that would have done just fine.”</p>
<p>  “There’s four, actually,” she corrected. He did not hold back his chuckle this time as he gestured for her to enter the designated wing meant for the patrons of the Night Court.</p>
<p>  Mor had left the doors open to the rooms she’d already vacated. She’d made good process.</p>
<p>  Rhysand removed himself from her side, headed in the direction of the nicer suites to find Keir’s residence. Kazi watched him turn a corner before knocking on the nearest closed door.</p>
<p>  The door swung open a second later and a shimmering High Fae male appeared on the other side. On his arm dangled a female from the Spring Court, a heavy floral sent wafting off her. She looked severely intoxicated from the night’s festivities, head lilting onto the male’s shoulder as he scowled at Kazi.</p>
<p>  “We’ve been waiting for an hour,” he sneered.</p>
<p>  Kazi looked from him to the female, face stony. “Good, then you can wait a while longer. Get rid of her, I’m not taking back a drugged female.”</p>
<p>  She did not wait for him to argue with her as she moved on to the adjacent room, ignoring the spits and insults the High Fae left in her wake. She knocked on the door and it took a few moments for the next male to open the door. Luckily, this one was alone.</p>
<p>  “Kazimyrah,” he said as a greeting. She did not know him; she did not make it her business to know anyone from the Court of Nightmares.</p>
<p>  She nodded. “Are you ready to leave?”</p>
<p>  “Yes.” He picked up a small sack of what she imagined were his belongings and held out his hand for her to take. She instead reached for his elbow before winnowing him straight to the Hewn City’s obsidian gates.</p>
<p>  She did not stop to give him a proper welcome back before she was gone again in a snap. The faster she could get through this, the better.</p>
<p>  The High Fae from before was waiting for her, the female still hanging on his arm, looking as if she might tip over without his assistance. He was red in the face, offsetting the shine of his pale skin and dark and gleaming eyes. She stared at him, blinking against his hardened stare.</p>
<p>  “She is coming back with me,” he stated firmly.</p>
<p>  “No,” Kazi denied, “she isn’t.”</p>
<p>  “She agreed to come to the Night Court, is that what you want to hear?”</p>
<p>  “She can barely stand,” she looked at the female and waved a hand in front of her eyes, only receiving a dazed smile in response, “let alone think for herself. I am not going to let you thieve away with a doped plaything from another court just because you can’t convince a female from the Night Court to come within a foot of you. Return her to her embassy and then I’ll think about taking you home. Or…you’re more than welcome to hitch a ride to the Spring Court with Tamlin. You won’t be missed, I assure you.”</p>
<p>  He hissed, canines on full display and his fingers dug into the disoriented female’s arm unconsciously. She flinched away from his grip, eyes shutting in pain, and Kazi sighed. In one swift movement, she swiped a hand to sever the point of contact between them and shoved the male into the corridor wall as she took the female’s hand into her own. Before the male could recover from the hit, Kazi had already winnowed the two of them to the wing where the Spring Court was staying.</p>
<p>  A head of auburn hair greeted her. Lucien’s shoulders stiffened as he heard her arrival, face turning to look at her. His metal eye whirred as he took her and the female in.</p>
<p>  “I’ve come to deliver a stray. She’s inebriated,” Kazi said and shifted the female’s weight off her side to lean it on Lucien. He steadied her, brushing some hair out of her face to look at her clearly. An expression of recognition crossed his features before he looked back up to Kazi.</p>
<p>  “Looks like drugging innocent females is a learned trait in your court,” he muttered.</p>
<p>  The image of Feyre dancing under the influence of faerie wine crossed her mind and she frowned. He took special consideration of it and shifted the female so her face no longer fell into his chest.</p>
<p>  “Thank you,” he said quietly, as if it were a struggle—which it, no doubt, was.</p>
<p>  Kazi nodded as he turned to guide the female over to a nearby room. Down at the end of the hall, she found two faces watching her with careful interest.</p>
<p>  Feyre whispered something to Linden, and he looked down at her. They conversed quietly, looking to Kazi every few seconds to find she hadn’t left yet. The female seemed to ask a question and the Guardian of the Spring Court looked like he wanted to tell her no, but eventually relented. Feyre smiled and squeezed his arm as she headed toward Kazi.</p>
<p>  She waited patiently, noting with no small amount of satisfaction that she now walked on the toes of her feet with her shoulders held back, though it was still wavering at times.</p>
<p>  The female stopped in front of Kazi and glanced once over her shoulder toward the room Lucien had entered with the drugged fae. “Rhysand?” she asked, clearly also thinking of how the High Lord had gotten her drunk every night.</p>
<p>  “No, he doesn’t typically sedate females,” Kazi answered, relishing in how the truth felt on her tongue.</p>
<p>  “Just me, huh?” Feyre scoffed. “I wanted to ask you…about Claire Beddor.”</p>
<p>  Kazi thought about all the fae she still had to deliver to the Night Court. She thought about what she would rather endure: the obnoxious courtiers or a demand for information on something she never wanted to think about again. She knew which she preferred, but she wasn’t offered much of a choice as Feyre continued.</p>
<p>  “You were the one to kill her.”</p>
<p>  “I thought you had something to <em>ask</em>,” Kazi responded. She looked into Feyre’s eyes and saw something like, <em>you know what I meant</em>, and sighed. “I was the one to end her life, yes.”</p>
<p>  Feyre took a deep breath to think about what she wanted to say next. The guardian waited. “And you—you tortured her?”</p>
<p>  “I did. Though, I believe she would have suffered more in someone else’s hands.” It was a weak excuse, but it was the only one she was capable of making without lying. “Her death was the reason I was in the dungeons when you arrived.”</p>
<p>  “That makes no sense,” she whispered.</p>
<p>  “If Amarantha had her way, the girl would have been alive and in pain for much longer. I killed her on my own terms, and it angered her.”</p>
<p>  Feyre nodded, face turned down and away. “I see. And do you…All of the rest,” she restarted with a swallow, “the other mortals and the fae that you had to kill, do you regret it?”</p>
<p>  Kazi did not answer immediately. She could not regret adhering to her High Lord’s orders to do Amrantha’s bidding. She did not regret protecting her home. “I regret…that it had to be done,” she replied slowly.</p>
<p>  And it was exactly what Feyre had been waiting to hear. Her shoulders visibly lost their tension as she breathed.</p>
<p>  “Feyre,” Kazi began, “those fae last night, it had to be done. You can regret that it had to happen, and you can even regret that it had to be you and not someone else. But you should never regret what you did to save everyone else. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, unfortunately. By killing them, you have prevented many more from being killed.”</p>
<p>  A tear was racing down the female’s cheek, touching every other freckle on its way down to her jaw. “But that’s the thing,” she sniffles and wipes her hand against her face to rid herself of the tears, “Amarantha was never going to let me win, never going to let me live. She was never planning on letting Tamlin go, and that means that they died in vain.”</p>
<p>  Kazi, once again faced with a situation she was not trained at handling, bit her cheek. “Nobody knew what Amarantha was planning, especially not you. We all truly believed that if you completed each task, Tamlin and his people would be let go. So you finished the tasks with no other choice. The uninformed are never guilty, Feyre.”</p>
<p>  The female was trembling, but her eyes had cleared up.</p>
<p>  “Feyre,” a voice called from the opposite end of the hall and she perked up. She flexed her jaw and blinked a few times before turning to the High Lord of the Spring Court. Kazi looked her over once before focusing on him as well. He was staring cautiously at the guardian. “We’re leaving now.”</p>
<p>  Feyre nodded and turned back to Kazi briefly. “Than—” she seemed to think better of her words—for who would thank someone like Kazimyrah of the Night Court? “I suppose I will be seeing you soon.”</p>
<p>  “I suppose you will,” Kazi agreed.</p>
<p>  And then she was winnowing back across the mountain. For a moment, she just stood in the corridor, reflecting on what she’d just told Feyre and how none of it could be applied to her. Kazi was not the ‘uninformed.’ She was not killing the few to save the many. And she was certainly not allowed to selfishly regret that it was her who had to kill them.</p>
<p>  “Hey!” the male from before roared. Kazi did not hide her rolling eyes as she faced his approaching form. “What’s your problem?”</p>
<p>  She did not deign to answer <em>that</em> question. “Are you ready to go?”</p>
<p>  “No!” he shouted and threw his arms out wide. “I demand that you get her Laurel right now!”</p>
<p>  “I do not listen to the demands of lowly courtiers.” She crossed her arms. “Besides, I suspect that they are well on their way back to the Spring Court by now. If you truly wish to bring her back to the Night Court, then you can send a missive. By the time she receives it, she’ll be perfectly sober enough to respond.”</p>
<p>  “You—" he stammered. “I am not leaving until she is back.”</p>
<p>  “I have no problem leaving you here. In fact, I think it’s a great idea. Excuse me.” She moved to step around him but was stopped by his hand grasping her elbow. “Unhand me.”</p>
<p>  “Listen here, you bitch. I—"</p>
<p>  She did not let him get another word in as she jabbed her free elbow into his gut and flicked her entrapped arm out of his grip. He stumbled back and she hooked a foot around his ankle so he fully collapsed to the ground on his backside. The heel of her boot came down upon that same ankle and it snapped beneath the force. He cried out in agony as she continued to press down on the broken joint.</p>
<p>  Kazi leaned down so she could look him in the eye as she spoke. “If you ever touch a female without her permission again, I will personally hunt you across Prythian, across every continent, and rip your hands from your body. I will make sure you are never able to touch <em>anything</em> ever again. Do you understand?”</p>
<p>  He was whimpering now, his canines ripping into the skin of his lips as he bit down to try and stop himself from crying out. A harsh crunch traveled through the air as she pushed further.</p>
<p>  “I said, do you understand?” she repeated.</p>
<p>  “Yes! Fuck, I understand!” he groaned.</p>
<p>  She finally lifted her foot. He curled in on himself to cradle the afflicted leg and cursed her to hell. “Now,” she smiled pleasantly, “are you ready to go or do you want to try walking all the way home on this busted ankle?”</p>
<p>  A snarl ripped from his throat, but he looked away and shoved his arm towards her to take.</p>
<p>  “Good choice,” she said and grabbed his wrist.</p>
<p>  She dropped him off a short distance from the actual city so he would be forced to hobble his way in to find help. He cursed her one more time before she disappeared in a cloud of black smoke again.</p>
<p>  As she landed back in the mountain, she could sense a presence at her shoulder. She did not have to look over to know who it was; Mor’s entire being emanated power in ways that were unique to only her.</p>
<p>  “Trouble?”</p>
<p>  Kazi rolled her shoulders once. “Handled.”</p>
<p>  “Good,” the blonde chimed. “Rhys and I managed to get the last of them.”</p>
<p>  She nodded once, feeling only a twinge of contrition at not doing more work.</p>
<p>  Mor looked around the empty wing. “I went to look at the body.” Kazi stilled. “She’s already starting to smell.”</p>
<p>  “She’d be horrified to know that she smells, even as a corpse,” the guardian joked ruefully. She grimaced at the reminder of the Middengard Wyrm and its pungent odor in death. This mountain was going to become a wasteland for rotting corpses.</p>
<p>  “Well, she’ll always be the center of attention in that room, just like she always wanted.”</p>
<p>  “I actually heard talk that the Spring Court plans on coming back to burn her body to ashes,” Kazi said, remembering the short snippets of conversation she’d heard during the celebrations last night.</p>
<p>  “Nothing less than what she deserves,” Mor remarked. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”</p>
<p>  Kazi nodded and they winnowed away from the once-sacred mountain, hopefully for the last time.</p>
<p>           </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>College caught up with me for a bit but I am back now, sorry about that.<br/>Updates should be more regular now, I think.</p>
<p>Anyways, I hope you guys liked this. Not super action packed, but we got to see a flashback of when her and Azriel kind of first got to know each other, we got to see Kazi and Feyre kind of finding common ground, and then Kazi demolishing some dude for being a dick.</p>
<p>As always, let me know if there are canon inconsistencies that aren't purposeful!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Supply and Demand</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>  —<strong><em>KAZI </em></strong>forgot, sometimes, what the Hewn City looked like in its prime. Once, long ago, Hewn was the central hub for the continental gem trade. Colliers across Prythian, and even adventurers from across the sea, flocked to the mountain mines in the north in hopes of striking it rich. The precious stones were then bought, sold, bartered, or gambled away within the city.</p>
<p>  Finery became the primary trademark for the Night Court. The other courts would send traders and merchants to pilfer this wealth but were only met with opposition and ill will. The citizens within the city were selfish and greedy, wanting to keep every lick of treasure for themselves; they would scam the outsiders for all they were worth before sending out hired thugs or assassins to kill and retrieve the unfairly exchanged goods.</p>
<p>  Eventually, the mines were bled completely dry, leading the court into an economic depression of mass proportions. The outer courts were unwilling to do business with anyone within the north because of past alienations. Commerce was put at a standstill and the citizens were now trading away diamonds by the handful just for a week’s worth of food.</p>
<p>  Unfortunately, Rhysand inheriting the Night Court’s entirety would only fuel the fire of recession. His focus had to be on the war, on protecting his people and the hidden city of Velaris. With no other choice, he turned over the Hewn City to his uncle Keir. Ever since then, Hewn has not seen an inch of growth, further descending into poverty.</p>
<p>  With Keir overseeing the city, there was little reason for Kazi to ever visit. And on the occasion where she was required to address political affairs, it was only to the Court of Nightmares, or the wealthy district in the northern sector where the minor lords built and isolated their keeps. Everywhere else within the city was, simply put, slums.</p>
<p>  The lesser fae lived in squalor, fighting over illegal properties, squatting in places that should have been deemed uninhabitable. The taverns were no longer a place of revelry and luxurious entertainment, but a place of deception and gambling. The Hewn City had become a place of civilian anarchy.</p>
<p>  But this—this was worse than Kazi remembered.</p>
<p>  The Night Court was never without a High Lord for very long, never without the invisible threat of his rumored ire. But fifty years was enough time for the civil administration to be thrown out of balance. Without Rhysand or a responsible and stable Court of Nightmares to keep people in line, unrest was running rampant in the streets of the Hewn City more than ever.</p>
<p>  There was little law enforcement to combat looting and pillaging in the first place, but without any immediate authority, the civilians of the Night Court felt they had free reign to wreak havoc for five decades.</p>
<p>  “I thought I told you to take care of my people,” Rhysand muttered darkly as they stalked through the city limits. The condition of the area was enough to make even Kazi upturn her nose: improperly disposed refuse along the gutters, drunken or homeless fae crouched in alleys, small creatures raiding the trash bins in said alleyways.</p>
<p>  “Taking care of these civilians is like taking care of newborn babies,” Mor explained, a grimace pulling at her face as a fae male purposefully brushed by her. “Believe me, Azriel made plenty of public executions to dissuade further discord. But unless the order comes directly from your mouth or my father’s, they don’t seem to care. Besides, this isn’t much worse than what they’re used to.”</p>
<p>  “Did you think to bring Amren at any point?” Kazi thought aloud. “Would have scared them all off the streets.”</p>
<p>  After another unseemly brush from a passing faerie, Rhysand finally pulled Mor between him and Kazi to make a protective barrier. The blonde made no mention of it, only blinking and taking her cousin’s arm within the crook of her elbow to continue walking in stride. “We brought the idea up with her and she told us she’d sooner starve than feed on these faeries.”</p>
<p>  “Fair enough,” Rhysand said, mouth curling in distaste as they sidestepped a puddle of miscellaneous waste. He swiped his free hand through the air and the surrounding area was wiped clean. “And how is economic stability?”</p>
<p>  “Ah,” Mor said as if reminded of something important, “my father issued an increased taxation on the citizens of Hewn for ‘<em>wartime reparations</em>.’”</p>
<p>  <em>W</em><em>artime</em>, Kazi scoffed, <em>if only</em>.</p>
<p>  “And where is that money actually going?” he sighed.</p>
<p>  “He says it’s going into the Darkbringer army, but we’ve tracked it going into his private coffers; his treasurers still keep an accurate ledger in their offices. He hasn’t spent any of it, yet, according to their reports.”</p>
<p>  “Of course,” Kazi mumbled.</p>
<p>  “Have a wire transfer made from that account to the Hewn Bank to reimburse the money,” Rhysand told her. “If the treasurers resist, let them know they can be easily replaced. And get an audit to check the ledgers for fraud, as well. I’ll manage Keir.”</p>
<p>  “Consider it done,” Mor ensured before winnowing away to the treasury offices.</p>
<p>  With the beautiful Morrigan gone, the salacious males who had been lingering around the cobblestone roads dispersed. Kazi eyed them sharply until they disappeared from her direct vicinity.</p>
<p>  “I’ll need to restart the Hewn Housing Initiative,” Rhysand grumbled unpleasantly as he looked around the overcrowded tenements. The cobble buildings that should have been evacuated due to deterioration held renters at capacity, and the alleys meant for trash collecting were filled with displaced fae. “And revivify every sanitation initiative my father abolished.”</p>
<p>  “Keir will put up a fuss about it,” she mentioned halfheartedly. “He depends far too much on the impoverished.”</p>
<p>  “My uncle can fight this all he wants, but I won’t have my people living like animals.”</p>
<p>  “I daresay animals live far better than this,” Kazi reputed, toeing a puddle. Her eyes turned away from a nearby beggar. “Is there even a steady income of food?”</p>
<p>  “Doesn’t look it,” the High Lord answered. “Yet another initiative to rectify. At this rate, we’ll be building New Hewn.”</p>
<p>  Kazi, despite the frown pulling at her lips, chuckled. “That was actually one of Cassian’s better ideas, you have to admit.”</p>
<p>  He relented a nod, but continued seriously, “New Hewn would be ideal, but relocating thousands of fae is different from relocating troops of Illyrians. There would be absolute chaos.”</p>
<p>  “I didn’t say his idea was great, I said it was better than his others. Better than unleashing a new disease to cure overpopulation, at least.”</p>
<p>  They were crossing over into the wealthy district. The northern Keeps were separated from the slums by a thick stone wall about fifteen feet high and three feet thick; the only entrance was a reinforced steel gate under careful watch. Of course, one glance at the High Lord of the Night Court and his loyal protector had the gate swinging open for their predetermined arrival.</p>
<p>  “Speaking of Cassian,” Rhysand brought up, “he asked after you this morning. ‘Said you haven’t gone to see him yet.”</p>
<p>  “I saw him when we first got back the other night,” she defended evasively.</p>
<p>  “Hardly.” Rhysand slowed his pace to carefully speak with her. “He’s not mad with you, Kazimyrah. He was angry with me and my own decisions to put myself in danger, not you.”</p>
<p>  “And I allowed it to happen,” she whispered back. “In his eyes, I am equally at fault. In fact, he probably has plenty to tell me about reckless endangerment, soldier loyalty, or criminal complicity. Perhaps all three since he’s had fifty years to think about it.”</p>
<p>  She did not want to think of the alternative—that Cassian might have absolutely nothing to say to her. She would not be able to handle his cold shoulder.</p>
<p>  “You never did like lectures,” Rhysand teased, waving away her concerns.</p>
<p>  He was right, of course. All her life, people had been lecturing Kazi. Her father about Divinity. Rhysand’s mother about propriety. Her private tutors on education.</p>
<p>  “You don’t get to talk to me about not seeing Cas when you haven’t gone to see Amren, yet.” Kazi flipped the conversation on him.</p>
<p>  His eyes flickered with trepidation as she reminded him of a pressing matter. “You haven’t either.”</p>
<p>  “I’m not her High Lord, Rhys. She’s never been fond of my company, anyway.”</p>
<p>  It wasn’t that Amren and Kazimyrah did not like each other; they did well enough when encouraged to work together. Some might even call them an unstoppable duo. But Kazi felt on edge whenever the Death Angel was around, especially when Rhysand was also present. Amren, with the amount of power thrumming through her, could kill the High Lord one hundred times over without blinking, and it never settled right with her. She could ignore it when they were alone, but as soon as Rhysand entered, the threat was pronounced. And Amren, able to detect the constant uneasiness, told her to just stay away whenever possible—not out of annoyance, but out of necessity for their peace of mind.</p>
<p>  He sighed. “Diamonds or sapphires this time, do you reckon?”</p>
<p>  “I’d buy both,” she advised, “to be on the safe side.”</p>
<p>  “Both, then.” Rhysand nodded. A thought must have occurred to him as he paused shortly to eye her closely. “And about Azriel’s moth—”</p>
<p>  Kazi, once again, thought about evading the question. But she thought better of it at the last moment. “I need some time before making that reunion.”</p>
<p>  Her High Lord did not push this one, and she was grateful.</p>
<p>  The last time she visited Azriel’s mother, things had been different. Kazi had been different. Before, she had been naïve to think that what she and Azriel had was enough, enough to sustain them both for eternity. She had thought it was enough to keep him at a metaphorical distance. She had thought it would be enough to make it across that single log bridge, but she had failed to see the splintering trunk and the rotting wood beneath her feet.</p>
<p>  But she was no longer that female.</p>
<p>  She was no longer ignorant enough to believe she could move forward without mending the hurt.</p>
<p>  “Are you ready?” Rhysand asked once they reached the base of the mountain where the Court of Nightmares resided. They’d taken a longer route to survey the city, but they’d also done it to prepare themselves for what was to come.</p>
<p>  There was a reason Amarantha had spent so much time in this court, memorizing every inch of this mountain. Under the Mountain was almost an exact replica to the Night Court’s governing sector. Returning here would be reminiscent of returning to the 49 years of darkness.</p>
<p>  “I’m ready.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>  —<strong><em>NUALA</em></strong> greeted Kazi at the townhouse’s front threshold, surprising the guardian out of her fatigue. The twins rarely made their presence known, choosing to drift around the empty rooms to avoid confrontation, instead.</p>
<p>  “Good afternoon, Kazi,” her raspy voice emerged like wisps of smoke.</p>
<p>  Kazi nodded in greeting. “Nuala. Is everything okay?”</p>
<p>  “A courier asked after you at the southern border to the Night Court earlier this morning.” She procured a sealed letter. “From the Spring Court.”</p>
<p>  Kazi took the letter with cautious yet curious fingers. She was rarely ever the one receiving correspondence, except when it concerned Divine matters—something that only occurred when a new Guardian was determined. A flash of worry invaded her thoughts, unbidden, but she recovered quickly. Surely, she would have felt it if something happened to Linden.</p>
<p>  “Thank you,” she said. Nuala let loose a brief smile and faded back into the house depths to find her sister.</p>
<p>  Kazi flipped the letter over in her hands, brushing the parchment gently before lifting her fingers to her nose. She could think of quite a few people who might want to send a poisoned gift to her doorstep; she wouldn’t hold it against them for trying. But it was only a harmless piece of paper, she realized, misted with the scent of rolling meadows and…spice.</p>
<p>  Lucien.</p>
<p>  Finally deciding the letter was not intended to kill or incapacitate her, she cracked the seal and revealed its contents. Her eyes skimmed over the calligraphy, finding it interestingly elegant. It would have to be nice, she decided, seeing as he was an emissary.</p>
<p>  She began to read:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <em>Lucien Vanserra, Emissary to the Spring Court,</em> <em>to Kazimyrah, Guardian of the Night Court and Divine Descendant.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>  This missive, seeing that it reaches you successfully, contains a letter of thanks written by the female you returned to the Spring Embassy the morning after the mountain’s liberation. She wishes to extend her gratitude for your actions.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  Further exchange is not needed.</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Short, sweet, straight to the point; very Lucien.</p>
<p>  Kazi pulled the second piece of parchment to the top to read the female’s letter. She hadn’t been expecting any thanks for her deeds that morning. She didn’t even think the female was cognizant enough to recall that day, she was too far gone. Lucien must have told her, then.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <em>L</em><em>aurel Beam, humble Spring Courtier, to her graciousness, Kazimyrah of Night.</em></p>
<p>  <em>Since it is so that I may not be there to declare my gratitude in the flesh, I plead you to accept these sincerest thanks through ink.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>  I do not recall the situation wherein I found myself beyond my sober mind. I admit it brings me to flushing every time I think about what I must have looked like to you. It is only through Lucien Vanserra and Feyre Archeron’s words that they informed me of the truth. Even in my delirious state, you chose to help a fellow maiden; for this, I feel I must repay you.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  Since my gratitude extends far beyond that of monetary compensation, I will give you a favor, any within my power, to be redeemed at any time. I must see this through, for a debt unpaid is a weight on my conscience.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  May the Cauldron and Mother bless you.</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Kazimyrah stared down at the flowing ink, stunned. She had been expecting a form of thanks, a grudging one backed by decades of hate. One that held no real meaning behind it. But this was sincere, more than Kazi thought she deserved.</p>
<p>  “Kazi?”</p>
<p>  She pulled in a breath and slowly folded the missive back into its envelope. Lightly flicking her wrist, she sent the letter away in a puff of smoke to be mulled over at a later time. Cassian was beside her by the time she looked up.</p>
<p>  “So all I had to do was go to Rhysand in order for you to talk to me?” He was frowning, more…disappointed than frustrated, she noticed.</p>
<p>  She was looking up at him, her eyes unconsciously drawn to the patchy facial hair along his jaw line. He only allowed it to grow when out at the camps, meaning he’d been spending quite a bit of time out there, training his soldiers. “Do you have a pumice stone?”</p>
<p>  Cassian breathed out a sigh before cracking a smirk, his head shaking in amusement. “In my room.”</p>
<p>  “Good,” Kazi said and started down the hallway in that direction. He followed her close behind, his steps heavily covering her own. She pushed open his door and immediately moved to fill a small basin with warm water in the adjacent bathhouse, retrieving the pumice stone from its sitting place on the side of his tub. She grabbed a small vial of soap and two scrapped rags from a nearby dresser before moving back into the main room. “Sit.”</p>
<p>  Cassian kicked out a stool from a vanity and obliged. He began to pull his hair back into a careless top knot with a leather band that he kept at his wrist. While he did so, Kazi soaked one of the rags and the stone in the heated water.</p>
<p>  Waiting for him to finish with his haphazard hair, she leaned against the vanity and crossed her arms. With both of their attentions split between the conversation and task at hand, she felt more comfortable speaking her mind. “I’m sorry for avoiding you.”</p>
<p>  He let his arms fall away from his head and grabbed the wet rag to wet his face. He did not look back at her, yet.</p>
<p>  “I don’t want to fight. But I think I’ve made my feelings known about what happened,” he told her. He splashed the rag in the water again before returning to work on his face. “I understand why Rhysand chose to face down the mountain. I know just how much of a self-sacrificing bastard he can be. But you—did you ever think about trying to stop him from doing it?”</p>
<p>  He finally raised his gaze to watch her. She stood up straight and picked up the vial of soap. Before she even unstopped the cork, she could smell the signature scent of the male in front of her on its surface. She handed him the bottle and stepped back again.</p>
<p>  “It crossed my mind every minute leading up to that night, and every moment after. Endangering him goes against everything I was sworn to do so I felt I was betraying my Divine duty.” After he slathered a sufficient layer of the soap on his face, Kazi picked up the pumice stone and brought it to his jaw. With one hand, she held his chin in place, and with the other she made circular motions to start on his scruff. “Ultimately, I had to think about what would happen if I disobeyed him.</p>
<p>  “He would have found some way to attend that ball, whether I was there or not. Going with him willingly was the lesser of two evils.”</p>
<p>  Cassian’s eyes found hers again as she focused on his jaw. “I understand that more than anything else, Kazi. I just—I would have felt better knowing what his plan was. We felt useless up here.”</p>
<p>  She wanted to tell him that she didn’t feel much better down there, wasting away.</p>
<p>  She finished one side and tapped him to turn on his stool so she could continue the other side.</p>
<p>  "Would you let him do it again?” Cassian asked, then, voice dropping off into a deeper tone.</p>
<p>  Her hand paused its motion. Her instinctual response was no; no, she would not let Rhysand go through it all again. But after another second of thought, she knew that her answer would be the same as it had been fifty years ago. “Ask Rhysand the same question, and then you’ll have your answer.”</p>
<p>  She was with him, through everything. If he decided it was worth it go through it all again, just as it had happened before, then she would endure it with him all over again.</p>
<p>  “I see,” he said.</p>
<p>  Kazi nodded. “I do understand why it hurt you. I, more than anyone, understand how it must have felt to be left in the dark. I cannot imagine what I would have done if Rhysand decided to keep me away from the mountain as he went in.”</p>
<p>  She had not been lying the other night when she said she would have done everything in her power to get to him.</p>
<p>  A mild silence descended upon them as Kazi finished with the stone and allowed him the space to wash the soap away from his smoothed jaw.</p>
<p>  His eyes were drawn to the water basin as he spoke. “We heard news up here…once the Deceiver began allowing some of the High Lords passage home.”</p>
<p>  Kazi did not want to entertain this conversation, but something told her he would not let it go if she turned and fled the room now. “It was probably all true, if that’s what you’re going to ask.”</p>
<p>  Cassian did not immediately answer, instead taking time to dry his face. As he set the cloth back down onto the vanity, he reached for her hand. “Just because it was your duty does not mean you have to believe it was the right thing. And even if it was the right thing to do for the sake of protecting others, that doesn’t mean you have to like it or even tolerate it. You are your own person, Kazi. Your duty to Rhysand is not a duty to yourself.”</p>
<p>  Slowly, succumbing to pent up feelings of regret and anguish, her head found its way to his shoulder. Her forehead rested easily upon him as he rubbed her hand.</p>
<p>  “It was so many,” she whispered.</p>
<p>  “I know,” he quietly said. “I know.”</p>
<p>  And for a moment, she let herself believe that he really did know.</p>
<p>           </p>
<p>           </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>University kind of hates me. Shame on past me for choosing an engineering major.<br/>Anyway, we get a lot of political and economic talk. I love worldbuilding. So there's the Hewn City issue taken care of, we won't see much more of that until the storyline picks up again. We got Cassian and Kazi bonding time because I love them. He's her rock and we'll see them grow closer through future flashbacks. We got a taste of Lucien in his emissary state because I love him (also, if anyone reads this, let me know if I should plan a Lucien x OC story). And Laurel Beam! Laurel will be a bigger character later on so stay tuned for that.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Laid to Rest</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em><strong>  —"OH,</strong></em> Great Mother…Please take our loved ones into your embrace once these great fires have purified their worldly bodies. We pray you and the Cauldron accept their immortal spirits and grant them safe passage into the next life. There, may they prosper under your watchful gaze once again."</p>
<p>  Kazi listened to the High Priestess of the Summer Court as her melodic voice carried over the hills and through the humid wind, only barely registering the blessings as her mind unwillingly traveled elsewhere, somewhere sinister. Flashes of Nostrus and Brutius kneeling at her feet, neither begging nor pleading for their lives. The Children of the Blessed, hearts punctured through by expert hands. She saw their lives in the palms of her hands: such fragile things. She saw them die, her fingers turning darker and darker as an homage to her heart.</p>
<p>  And now she glimpsed her hands, sure she was about to find viscera, but only found trails of glistening water sliding down her trembling wrists. She watched the streams drip to the scalding sand at her toes, and she fought to regain the composure she'd lost. Futile, really.</p>
<p>  Kazi took a deep breath, only to regret it the next second. The air was so hot and humid that her lungs wanted to reject it at every turn, an ache slowly forming in her chest where her lungs screamed. The exposed patches of skin at her waist and shoulders, as well, were protesting the overwhelming sun at its peak in the sky. The revealing light blue gown she'd chosen that morning helped her blend in with the faeries of the Summer Court, but she couldn't help thinking it impractical to combat the sun's rays. Even the bare soles of her feet prickled with pain each time she put her foot down in the dirt.</p>
<p>  Perhaps it was what she deserved, coming here when she was most certainly not welcomed.</p>
<p><em>  This is closure</em>, Cassian had told her. And if Kazi needed anything, it was that.</p>
<p>  As she crested one of the dunes, a lesser faerie touched by the effects of time slowly limped up to her with a weak smile. Her pale white hair, sprouting from graying roots, was woven and braided intricately down her back, and inside the crook of her elbow she held a collection of wreaths and homemade crowns. Kazi admired the craftsmanship.</p>
<p>  The elder female's eyes glittered with a wisdom seasoned through the years, but as they looked upon Kazi's face they lost all cognizance. The glamour she'd placed on herself tingled in response. All the artisan would be able to see was an unmemorable and nondescript face, made to be forgotten as soon as she turned away.</p>
<p>  Despite her slight confusion, the female still generously bestowed a seashell circlet on the crown of Kazi's head, emitting a sound of approval as she fingered the ebony locks of hair around her brow. It sat heavily and somewhat awkwardly, but Kazi refused to disturb the water in her hands to adjust it or refuse the offer. Giving a genuine smile to the female for her kindness, she straightened out and continued her journey.</p>
<p>  Cresting the next hill, Kazi could finally see the center of the funeral rites. A large pyre built at the base of the slope was surrounded by basins and buckets of sloshing water. As each faerie walked up and dropped their water away, they kissed their fingers and kneeled for an indeterminate amount of time to pay their humble respects.</p>
<p>  Off to the side on a raised platform stood the High Priestess alongside the High Lord of the Summer Court, his guardian, and surviving cousins.</p>
<p>  They were all dressed similarly to everyone else, if not more elaborately; clothed in the colors of their court out of respect for their dead. Tarquin and his cousin, Varian, wore loose, seafoam green gauzy robes draped around their waists and thrown over one of their shoulders. A simple crown sat atop the High Lord's brow, constructed from coral and seashells, while Varian had a simple band of ivory fabric tied around his forehead. Anahera's robes were more modest across both shoulders and falling in two swaths of fabric with slits up the sides of her legs for unobstructed movement should anything arise. Cresseida, Tarquin's other cousin and Varian's older sister, wore a deep sea-blue gown similar to Kazi's with cutouts at the waist and slim straps tied about the neck.</p>
<p>  They all observed the proceedings with grim faces, reminiscing in the loss of their family members Under the Mountain.</p>
<p>  Kazi, who had slowed to a stop at the peak of the slope to take them in, began her walk down. She bowed her head slightly to not draw the attention of the High Lord's family or her fellow guardian. It was impossible for Anahera to be unaware of her presence as they could all feel when another Divine entered their court, but she did not want to provoke the female into publicly ostracizing her.</p>
<p>  She took it as a good sign that the Guardian of the Summer Court was not actively hunting her down for treason now that they were free from Amarantha's rule.</p>
<p>  Following the path of a nearby male to the nearest basin, Kazi watched as, one-by-one, each faerie relaxed their hands over the pools of water: some salt, some fresh, some mixed with healing herbs. According to Summer Court legend, different waters were given to the dead for distinct reasons. Salt water, typically taken from the nearby western shore, was meant to convey a deep respect to the dead—a lesser fae to a High Fae, a subordinate to their superior, a child to an elder. As Kazi looked around, almost everyone was carrying the sea water for their late High Lord. Fresh water from boiled sea water was given to portray a true friendship or a fellow warrior, a relationship hardened through trials. Fresh water retrieved from springs or wells was given to loved ones; sharing the valuable resource with the dead symbolized a profound love. And water retrieved from snow-capped mountains symbolized regret and remorse, because, if one truly felt grief over their own misgivings, they would traverse perilous terrain and withstand extremes for their penance.</p>
<p>  Kazi's hands held water from the tallest mountain in Prythian.</p>
<p>  As she stepped up to the basin with her handful, she resisted cringing at the added heat of the fire. Her shoulders smarted against the sunburns she'd already sustained as the waves of heat now danced heavily across her front. Her cheeks were surely red, and eyes bloodshot. She wondered why the Summer Court did not hold their funeral rites during the night when it was cool, but she supposed it would be improper to not have the sun's gaze at the height of its power during the day.</p>
<p>  The Night Court, similarly, held their own funerals beneath the watchful stars and blanket of night in tribute of their fallen.</p>
<p>
  <em>  She was wearing black, just as she always did. But it felt wrong, somehow, to wear a color she normally found comfort in on a day like this…</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  Her fingers were pulling at each other against her back, each knuckle aching from the pressure she was relentlessly placing on them. Typically, at this point, Rhysand's mother would stride up from behind and smack her wrists till she finally stopped her nervous tugs.</em>
</p>
<p>  A lady does not fidget<em>, Indira would discipline sternly, but then would promptly hold her hand to keep her from further twitching. It was a tough love, but a love she coveted, and she would do anything to have it back in her grasp.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>  Kazi clenched her fists together and yanked them to her sides. Just as she was about to frustratedly begin playing with the material of her midnight gown, a hand reached down to capture one of hers into a caging grip. After a tight squeeze, the clutch loosened. She let out a shaky sigh as Rhysand's thumb began a gentle stroke along the back of her hand.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  Finally able to look back up to the proceedings, Kazi wondered why so many people had to be here. They did not know Rhys's mother or his sister, they did not know her father; what business was it of theirs to attend a funeral for them, to cry over that loss? But then she had to remind herself that they were all here for Rhysand's father, their previous High Lord.</em>
</p>
<p><em>  To Rhysand's right stood his cousin and Kazi's closest female friend, Morrigan. And to Mor's right stood the two Illyrians Rhysand's mother had invited into their household a decade prior, Cassian and Azriel. They, along with everyone else, wore black, but they'd chosen their Illyrian leathers designed for battle. The courtiers and other denizens around the plot looked upon them warily as the dim, flickering lanterns cast ominous shadows on their enormous wings. It was a show of strength, Kazi knew, to show their people just </em>who and what<em> Rhysand had at his back.</em></p>
<p>  "<em>Oh, Great Mother above, may you ferry these beloved souls to the next world," a High Priestess of their court enunciated. "May you guide them towards your Divine Plan with peace and prosperity. May you accept these offerings and breathe these souls into new life."</em></p>
<p>
  <em>  At her conclusion, the faeries began to step forward to drop prized jewels into the procured graves. The jewels, while they were not worth much in this time of poverty, were still valuable to the world. Pulled from the ground, and so to the ground they return.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  Kazi watched as her father's grave was slowly filled with glittering diamonds and emeralds out of respect for his devotion to the court and his ultimate sacrifice. Raxleon would have scoffed at the sight of them, she thought dully. Her father had never appreciated finery of that nature. Even her mother, from what little she could recall, had never worn clothes befitting nobility.</em>
</p>
<p><em>  So when Kazi finally decided to drop her own tributes into the graves, she made sure her father received the first dagger he'd gifted her as a fae youngling. It was too small for her hands now, and too dull to serve her any use other than sentimentality. Raxleon would have scorned her at that thought, as well. </em>Sentimentality is intolerable, Kazimyrah<em>, he'd tell her, </em>there is no room for it in this hopeless world<em>. </em>You must sever your ties with the material emotion in order to perform your Divine duty.<em> With his gruff voice lingering in her head, she forced herself to move on and not linger another moment. His memory would live on through her, and it was enough to give her strength.</em></p>
<p><em>  In Rhysand's mother's grave, she dropped a small collection of sewing needles. This, as well, had been gifted to her years ago to teach Kazi how to be a proper lady in court. Sewing and embroidery had never been her favored hobby, but the female had insisted on teaching her. </em>If not to mend clothing<em>, Indira said once, </em>then to stitch up my son's wounds on the battlefield, at least<em>. Kazi had earnestly given in to her lady-lessons then. Her eyes prickled with unshed tears, tears for a mother who took her in as one of her own. Tears for a mother that treated her, not as her son's protector but as his friend. She blinked away the memories and moved on.</em></p>
<p><em>  Kazi paused at the lip of Vaela's grave. Kazi reflected on the idea of the Divine Plan she'd grown up hearing about. What Divine Plan could involve the death of one so young? Why bring her into this world if she was </em>destined<em> to leave it so soon? Another wave of tears threatened to spill and Kazi quickly dropped a small hair ornament, littered with small glittering sapphires, into the pit. She could still remember the feeling of small, nimble hands intertwining it into her hair, a young voice telling her just how pretty she was going to look when she was done with it.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>  By the time she reached the former High Lord's grave, her heart was begging her to just leave and be done with it. Rhysand's father had not been kind, not to her and not to her own father. Danrys treated his guardian as nothing more than a throw-about soldier at his command, just one more shield between him and the rest of the vicious world. Equally so, he looked down upon Kazi, telling her consistently that she should have been born a male so that when her father eventually passed on, he would have another male at his disposal.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  With his echoing insults in mind, she tossed in a simple piece of coal. Under the guise of night, it would look like obsidian or perhaps a chunk of hematite to the onlookers.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  Returning to Rhysand's side, she carefully assumed his hand once again. His mouth was silently mouthing the words to a prayer. She caught, "I'm sorry" and "forgive me," and squeezed his hand tightly to show she was there.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  Divine Duty or not, she would be there for him. Her last breath would be for him, and him alone.</em>
</p>
<p>  Kazi blinked away the memory of a time long ago.</p>
<p>  Her hands continued to tremble as she finally let the water flow into the basin at her feet. She imagined her guilt and her crimes washing away with the steady stream. She imagined her regrets slowly dissipating, but try as she might, the weight on her heart remained hot and heavy.</p>
<p>  Slowly kneeling into the boiling sand, she pressed a kiss to her shaking fingers before bringing them to her brow where the crown came down in a point. Under her breath, she pled for their forgiveness, but knew it was too late, knew her attempt was in vain. What did the regrets of a living soul mean to a dead one? She did not expect their forgiveness, not even their understanding. But she wished they could see her, begging in their place, pleading with the impossible. She hoped they knew just how much their courage meant to her Under the Mountain.</p>
<p>  She stood shakily to her feet once more, her eyes taking in the scene in front of her. Tarquin and his cousins would douse the flames with the basins of water. The billowing steam would provide cover for the spirits as they rose to the Mother's embrace. Kazi would not stick around to see the spectacle, feeling as if she'd already overstayed her welcome.</p>
<p>  Making her way through the crowding faeries, she looked up to the High Lord and his band once more. They stood stiffly, and she wondered if they were replaying the deaths of their family over and over in their mind. If they were watching her kill Nostrus, Brutius, and the other members of their court a million times over. She wondered if they would ever be able to look upon her again without seeing the faces of the dead.</p>
<p>  She didn't think so.</p>
<p>  She wouldn't be able to look them in the eye without feeling an acute sense of shame.</p>
<p>  Taking one last look at the entire rite, she winnowed directly to the townhouse in the Night Court. A gentle breeze brushed at her unprotected skin, and she welcomed the stinging relief with a sigh. With another deep breath, she let her glamour down and unlocked the door to walk inside.</p>
<p>  On throbbing feet, she wandered into the kitchen in search of something to alleviate her pain, but found a large body turned away from her. Membranous wings faced her, webs of veins tracing rivers of blood across their planes, pale white scars glinting against the dim light coming through the window. One jagged line ran steadily across her vision, and she clenched her hand to stop the surfacing memory of its origin. She'd dealt with enough guilt that day.</p>
<p>  Following the leading lines of his tendons, she found his tense shoulders flexing unconsciously beneath his thin tunic at her presence.</p>
<p>  She tugged at the dull and thin tether in her chest, seeing his head tilt. A long second later, she felt it reciprocated gently. Something like relief flooded her.</p>
<p>  Kazi stepped further into the room to continue her search only to stop short as she sidestepped the wings. Honey, a jar of witch hazel herbs, essential oils, and a bowl of water sat presently on the table Azriel leaned against. The sight was enough to make her chest tighten.</p>
<p>  She wondered how long he'd been able to feel the effects of her sunburns, how long he'd been sitting there for her arrival, knowing she would end up there eventually. Under the Mountain, when she'd selfishly cut him off from her senses, she'd made sure her pain receptors had been cut off, as well. This gesture let her know that the barrier between them was slowly crumbling.</p>
<p>  His eyes rose to meet hers, unmistakably catching on the cut outs and the deep plunges of her dress where her skin was widely exposed. She shifted under his lingering gaze, moving forward to approach the table of items. He swiftly stepped up to intercept her path, faltering as she took a sharp breath.</p>
<p>  "Allow me."</p>
<p>  And like a lovelorn fool, all she managed was a breathless nod.</p>
<p>  Azriel seemed to hesitate even after her enthusiastic acceptance, as if he were surprised she agreed to his proposition. Looking into his eyes, she tried to convey the sincerity of her approval, the sincerity in her acceptance of <em>him</em> and all that he was. At that, he finally moved.</p>
<p>  He pulled out a chair for her at the table, situating it in front of another for himself. She sat down, wincing minutely as her skin pulled at different angles. His eyes were searching hers, still, waiting for the moment when she decided this was too far-too fast. It was that diligent wariness that told her this was okay; she was ready for this step. It was a step they'd already taken together, centuries ago, but it had meant little for her at the time. Then, it had been an excuse to touch him without bringing feelings into the equation. It was just a way for her to feel close to him without feeling committed. <em>This</em> was different.</p>
<p>  This held a meaning she could not quite master.</p>
<p>  Tentatively, he grabbed the bowl of water and pulled it closer. She watched his shadow-cloaked hands as they liberally wet a rag with cold water. Instead of scooting near to meet her, he reached down and dragged her chair that little bit closer so that her legs were trapped between his knees. Her body swayed lightly at the motion.</p>
<p>  "Where does it hurt the most?" His deep and raspy voice pulled her attention from his legs to his face. There, she saw something akin to a content smile.</p>
<p>  "My shoulders." She blinked, knowing that her face needed more attention, but her body betrayed her. The thought of his hands on her shoulders and neck selfishly took over her mind. Even still, she swept her hair to the side to present him with the burnt flesh.</p>
<p>  Azriel nodded and his hand drifted forward slowly, the rag dripping onto the silken fabric of her gown. She shivered as it first touched her collarbone, causing him to let out a breathy chuckle. Slowly, he swept the rag over her bare shoulders and her neck. Every time he reached the strap, he would carefully lift it and continue on his way, careful to avoid the direct contact of his skin on hers. Each brush brought him closer and closer to her throat where he'd eventually turn his attention to.</p>
<p>  Her breath quickened for a single moment as she pictured it, and she pulled her hair back over one shoulder so he could have better access. But he paused, the rag pulling back and off the column of her neck.</p>
<p>  His free hand came up to her chin, the shadows curling around his fingers. Finally, the pads of his fingers skimmed her jaw and a trail of ice raced across her skin. Frowning, she at once understood what he had found. Kazi had taken great pains to cover the scarring up until this point, wearing high necked leathers or gowns, keeping her hair down, and consciously covering the view of her throat. She'd chosen to forgo the effort that day, knowing the glamour she'd been using earlier would keep the Summer faeries from commenting on it. But now, she was left bare to his examinations.</p>
<p>  "The cavern," he said quietly, concealing a hardened emotion. "From when my shadows contacted you."</p>
<p>  At the mention of them, the tendrils of ink coiled around her neck. She remembered their touch in the Middengard Wyrm's cavern. She remembered what they'd told her in one of her darkest moments. She remembered the light they'd given her to continue living.</p>
<p>  She nodded slowly, the tips of his fingers adjusting against her. "I do not mind a little scarring."</p>
<p>  His fingers pulled back swiftly, as if stung by her double meaning. But as Kazi's eyes found his, she could see something different swirl beneath the bronze irises. Whatever it was, it was fierce, and she wanted to see it again.</p>
<p>  Azriel took a breath and pulled the witch hazel mixture closer. Each movement was paired with a roil of shadows and she wondered if they were speaking to him of affairs far from the house, or if they were there with them, in this moment, present. Something in her hoped they were as invested in this growth as she.</p>
<p>  He applied the liquid ointment to her shoulders, hands finally back on her skin. It felt as if they belonged there, as if they existed to remain on her, made just to touch her. He kneaded the solution into the burns, taking care in the spots that had blistered. She refrained from hissing or wincing, afraid he might pull away again.</p>
<p>  A few moments later, he withdrew, anyway. But her heart hammered as he grabbed the wet rag and set his concentration on her face. Looking into his eyes was unavoidable as he wiped slow strokes across her cheeks and temples. After each swipe of the rag, he followed it with a second graze of his bare thumb. Every moment, her face continued to heat beneath his ministrations. Eventually, he set down the rag and chose the witch hazel again.</p>
<p>  Kazi felt the sting as he applied it to her burns.</p>
<p>  She watched in fascination as his throat began to bob. She wasn't sure why he was suddenly nervous, but soon found his reason for his unease. He pulled over the small jar of honey. It was a household remedy they used for minor burns when they did not wish to waste ointments Madja, Velaris's head healer, procured.</p>
<p>  Azriel paused, his mouth opening and closing, as if he meant to ask for further permission. She let him debate on it for a moment before deciding to just reach over and grab the jar herself. She twisted open the lid and set it off to the side before setting the jar back beside his empty hands. It was enough of an assent as he needed.</p>
<p>  Using a spoon, he pulled a small dollop of honey from the glass container and then used two of his fingers to spread the sweet substance on her cheeks. Immediately, she cringed from the wet stickiness that pulled at her reddened skin. His fingers dragged across her face, slowly and gently coating her skin in a thin layer of honey.</p>
<p>  It was over all too soon for her liking.</p>
<p>  Azriel's hands pulled back one last time, and she observed, enraptured, as he brought the remnants of honey on his two fingers to his mouth. His eyes did not meet hers as he licked at the golden liquid. Her throat began to dry, and her legs shifted between his own, thinking she might be overheating.</p>
<p>  A small, calm smile pulled at the edges of his lips, feeling and seeing her fidgeting. She frowned as his eyes rose to her gaze once more. At the sight of her expression, his face molded into a larger, more amused, smirk.</p>
<p>  "What? Did you want it?" He pulled his hands from his mouth, presenting her with the digits. "I can share."</p>
<p>  Sometimes, Kazi forgot just who Azriel grew up with. His brothers were a terrible influence on his flirtations.</p>
<p>  "You're insufferable," she huffed a laugh, rolling her eyes up and away from him.</p>
<p>  In the moment that her eyes left his tantalizing mouth, he leaned forward, and his mouth pressed a kiss to the apple of her cheek. It was quick…or it should have been, but the honey on her face and the honey on his lips kept them connected for another added moment. Azriel was met with sticky resistance as he pulled back.</p>
<p>  "For you only, Kazimyrah."</p>
<p>  No other words were spoken as he gave her a fleeting once-over and retreated from the room.</p>
<p>  And though he may be insufferable, she would freely suffer a century just for another moment of his love.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>My last finals are within the next few days, and this is a product of my procrastination. I hope you guys enjoyed this one, I took a bunch of creative liberties. Funeral rites and stuff, Rhysand's family members' names.</p>
<p>Rhysand's Sister: Vaela (I decided this because of Velaris)</p>
<p>Rhysand's Mother: Indira (I just think this is a motherly elegant name)</p>
<p>Rhysand's Father: Danrys (A play on Rhysand)</p>
<p>Anyway, I hope you understood the funeral rites. Summer is a burning fire to burn the bodies while all the faeries drop water in basins. The basins are then used to douse the fire. The Night Court is just graves where they drop offerings of gems because it's an offering to the world. I imagine the gems are absorbed into the earth so there are no grave robbers.</p>
<p>And the moment with Azriel, I hope you liked that. There should be more between them next chapter and thennnn the one after should be back in A Court of Mist and Fury.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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